


Skilamalink

by MissGillette



Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alternate Universe - Victorian, Dubious Consent, Explicit Sexual Content, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Hylian Prince Sidon, M/M, Master/Servant, Past Underage, Verbal Link
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-04
Updated: 2018-06-06
Packaged: 2019-04-18 12:58:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 81,952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14213676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissGillette/pseuds/MissGillette
Summary: The walls of Zora Manor hide a terrible, shameful secret. One Link, page to the lord of the manor, had hoped to keep. The arrival of a most important business partner to his lord threatens that, for the man knows well what befalls pages in this house of horrors.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> "Skilamalink" is a Victorian slang word that means: shady, secretive, doubtful. You'll discover very soon why this story is titled as such. Link is seventeen in this story at the start of chapter one, fourteen in the prologue where nothing happens to him ~~yet~~. So that tiptoes the line of "underage" depending on where you are, if you consider an adult in a fantasy world a minor in yours. Whatever, y'all know what the fuck this is about. It's me.
> 
> Wanna make it official? [Follow this](http://missgillette.tumblr.com)

How had he ended up here? It’s a thought that takes Link away from the cold, away from the hole in his left shoe. It never grows painfully cold in Tabahl Village, tiny and nestled below the sprawling manor at the top of the mountain—Zora Manor. It’s warmer here than in Castle Town, where the wind races over Hyrule Field and sucks all the warmth of summer in fall, freezes them to the ground in winter. He’d run away for… something. Adventure? Excitement? A man in a tavern had lured him away with the promise of taking him to the islands in the Lanayru Wetlands and finding him transport to kingdoms beyond. But when they’d reached the islands, the man had disappeared with the few belongs Link stole out of his house. The residents of Tabahl Village upstream from the wetlands are generous, but wary of him. He’s not slept in a bed in a few months, but finding a way home seems impossible with only a few rupees in his hand every day.

He sighs where he’s huddled under the grocer’s window and knocks a foot into the tin cup he uses to collect. He tries to leave at least a green rupee in the cup to tempt the villagers or any people passing through. Something heavier—some things heavier—than a green rupee falls into it while he shivers into his knees. Glimmering up from the tin cup, three blue rupees rattle next to his single green one. Link nearly strains his neck when he throws his head up to see who graces him with such generosity. He glances up to see what must be two faeries.

They’re almost too beautiful to look at. Their clothes are perfect, coats thick over their bodies. The man is much taller than his wife, sheltering her against his chest where her head barely reaches his heart. He watches Link with bright, odd eyes. Link has never seen brown eyes so bright they’re almost gold. Red hair flops in his face with the wind, but settles over his forehead when the wind gives out. The rest of his hair is swept away from his face, twisted up somehow and kept out of the wind by a hood. His wife is a sweet, young girl—brown hair and brown eyes wide like a doe’s. She's slightly younger than her husband, olive skin a little brighter and tighter around her eyes, the corners of her lips. She gives Link a little smile before turning the expression up to her husband. Their brown cheeks take on a rosy hue as they smile at each other.

“Dear, you said you’d let me give the rupees to the little boy!”

The man laughs softly to his wife, still staring down at Link, and says, “I suppose I did. You must have one or two green ones in your pocket, my darling. Give those to him, too.”

She does so with a twinkling laugh. Two more green rupees fall into his cup, adding up to eighteen rupees in all. Eighteen is not the most he’s had at once, but it’s significant in winter and on a windy day like this. The couple watches him for a moment longer before finally stepping back to the street and continuing on their way. Link hops up to his knees in order to watch where they go. He’s never seen them before, but they don’t seem like tourists. Tourists wander around with wide eyes, children running laps around them and screaming. Plus… Tabahl Village doesn’t attract many outsiders during winter. It’s the spring and summer that are breathtaking and pleasant. On top of that, the couple does not hesitate to turn off the main road and head towards the post office. No tourist would visit there. Link tears his gaze away from the vanishing couple in order to consider the rupees. He must thank them.

On coltish legs, Link springs from his resting place, cup in hand, and stumbles down the road. It is deserted of horses and carriages at the moment, all thanks to the frosty morning. But soon shops will open and the clear road will stagnate a bit with people. Link slips on an icy cobble and has to catch himself with one hand. Breathing hard from his misstep, Link ignores the scratch on his palm and continues tearing after the couple. The tattered ends of his ratty coat flap against his legs as he runs. It hurts when it whips at him, but he can’t lose sight of the couple! He doesn’t have many fond memories of his parents, but they’d taught him manners at least. He makes it to the crossroads of the village and watches the couple step out of the post office. Their post is in hand, maybe a few letters. Sure enough, they’re locals. Wife hanging on her husband’s arm, they cross the street to enter a tavern. It’s open early with smoke already puffing out the chimney.

The bell above the door barely rings when Link cracks it open. He doesn’t need much room to slip into the tavern. He finds the couple at a table near the roaring fireplace along the back wall. The husband kisses the top of his wife’s head before leaving for the bar. Link keeps to the shadows by the front door, watching and listening. It’s quiet enough in here for Link to finally feel his heart thundering hard in his chest. He’s not used to running since he doesn’t pester the villagers like he’s seen some beggars. No one comes running at him with a broom or mop. He leaves a squatting place when asked and doesn’t try to come into stores or taverns like this. The villagers smell him when he’s nearby even though he tries to wash when it’s warm. Scrubbing himself in the Zora River doesn’t do much, though.

The husband, rather dashing in his tight waistcoat and fitted breeches, leans on the bar to order tea for himself and his wife. He murmurs something about a newspaper, but the barman shakes his head. A displeased huff blows out the husband’s nose, but he shrugs a shoulder and waves the barman’s explanation away. Tea and toast ordered, the husband returns to his table with a slightly sour expression. It’s disappointment, clearly, and Link springs to do something about it. He can thank the kind couple by running back to the grocer’s and buying a newspaper. It will cost him one of the rupees in his can, but the couple had given him seventeen. He can make those last for a week, maybe two if he’s smart and goes hungry.

Plan formed, Link slips back out of the warm tavern and races to the grocer’s. He doesn’t stumble now with his blood warmed, legged stretched from his recent jog up the street. Despite his energy, Link makes sure to enter the store calmly. The old man here doesn’t take kindly to him coming in until he marches right up to the counter and grabs a paper. He slaps a rupee next to it and waits for the man to take it. He does so with an eyebrow cocked, wondering what a vagabond wants with a newspaper. Paper paid for, though, Link runs from the store to bring it to the couple.

He finds them at their table, talking quietly over tea. The wife speaks rather sternly and quietly to her husband, face pulled down in displeasure. Link doesn’t hear the words, only watches from a few tables away. She turns her head away when the husband replies, not wanting his words. Her lips are tight as his mellow voice tries to placate her. She even closes her eyes when he reaches out to cover her hand, petting the back through her pretty, white glove. Link waits with his breath held for her to maybe yank her hand away or stand from the table. Her lips are tighter than ever when she opens her eyes and immediately sees him. Her expression flying open with surprise catches her husband off guard, and he turns in his chair to see what all the fuss is about. Link stumbles those last few steps before the man says anything and holds the paper out to him.

“Hello there,” the husband says sweetly, like he’s trying to coax a cat closer. He turns fully in the chair, legs spread a little, and holds a hand out. “What have you got there?”

But the wife isn’t so pleased.

“Dear, I’d like to go back to the carriage, now.”

He doesn’t spare her a look, still trying to tempt Link closer.

“We can in a moment, darling, but I think the little boy from earlier has brought us something.”

The hand held out to Link beckons him.  He doesn’t touch the husband, but instead gently lays the newspaper in his palm.

“A-a newspaper for you, my Lord. They’ve not been delivered to the t-tavern, yet.”

Now, the husband twists his head around to regard his wife. She’s not any more soothed than when Link had interrupted their tense discussion. Brown eyes glance back and forth between her husband and Link. She holds her tongue behind thin, firm lips.

“Did you hear that, darling? This sweet boy went and fetched a newspaper for me.” Turning back to Link, those bright eyes sparkle above a dashing smile. “How kind of you, boy. You have my thanks.”

He takes the newspaper, and the moment the light weight of it leaves Link’s fingers, he drops that hand back to his side. The husband considers the folded newspaper for a moment before placing it on the table. He drums his fingers on it while looking Link up and down, searching for something. Link wants to turn away, to hide his dirty, torn clothes stolen from rubbish bins. He’d come here in nothing but a linen shirt and trousers, shoes already thin in the soles. No hat. No coat. Link’s desperate situation and poverty are obvious, could not be read as anything else. Golden eyes finally settle on his face, and Link must resist the urge to wipe away dirt he knows smudges his cheek.

“Darling,” the husband asks his wife, “whatever happened to my page, little Rusty?”

Shoulders ramrod straight, she says smoothly, “I sent Thaddeus away, dear. You know I caught him rifling through our bedroom.”

“Mmm, yes, I’d forgotten.” He turns a teasing smile her way. “I was quite fond of him, you know. I’m still sore over that.”

A cloud passes over her pretty face, but she says nothing to that. Link tries with everything in him not to fidget while watching the conversation continue somehow, just between them and their stares. It ends in a stalemate, but the wife’s expression never relaxes.

The husband’s attention once again turns fully on Link when he asks, “How old are you, boy? Where do you hail?”

“Fourteen, my Lord,” he says quietly, thankful to Hylia that he hadn’t stuttered that time. “I come from Castle Town, but… I live here now.”

“Here? Alone?” He leans forward with an elbow sunk into his leg. “Where are your parents?”

Link finally drops his gaze and stares at his worn shoes. His toes shift inside them, and Link watches the thin material ripple.

“I live here, my Lord,” he says again. “Alone.”

The husband tuts, stands from his chair, and then kneels by Link’s feet. Link’s head shoots up to find unhappy eyes waiting for him, a sympathetic smile ready, too. Behind him, Link doesn’t miss how the cloud over the wife’s brow grows and darkens, threatening to throw off lightning and thunder. She nearly glares at the back of her husband’s head, and her fingers twist tightly into a handkerchief pooled in her lap.

“You poor, sweet boy. I simply cannot allow that. My page Thaddeus, he asked us to call him Rusty on account of his hair and dislike of his birth name, has left me recently, and I find myself in need of another.”

“Dear,” the wife grinds out between her teeth. “I must object to this.”

“Quiet,” he snaps, finally showing an edge of anger. “I did not ask for your input, nor do I appreciate it. We’ll return to the carriage soon, darling, I promise.”

He only regards Link again when he’s sure his wife won’t speak again. Link makes sure to button his lip, too.

“Now,” he says pleasantly, all traces of anger evaporating, “I find myself in need of a page. Do you know what this is? What they do?”

Link does not, but he nods anyway and smiles back at the husband.

“Lovely. You will accompany us back up the river, and I’ll have a maid take care of you.” He stands, clearly deciding for everyone, but then pauses while reaching for the newspaper. “Sweet boy, might I have your name? I don’t believe you introduced yourself.”

“N-no, I’m sorry, my Lord,” Link quickly blurts out. “My name is Link.” He even bows and adds once he pops back up, “It’s an… honor to enter into your service, my Lord.”

Tucking the newspaper under his arm, the husband turns towards Link and says, “That’s better. So polite you are, Link. I am the Lord of Zora Manor, Sidon Ruta.” He says so with a little nod of his head and a smile. He then gestures to his lady. “And my wife, Hestia, the Lady of Zora Manor. You may refer to us as Lord or Lady Ruta.”

Link bows to her to, although not as deeply as to Lord Ruta.

“My Lady.”

Her attention is fully on her husband, even after Link rises from the bow.

“Dear, the carriage…”

Waving a hand, Lord Ruta groans, “Yes, yes, we’re going. Let me help you with your coat, and we’ll depart.”

Link follows them at a respectful distance, but not so distant that onlookers will mistake him as up to no good. The carriage is a work of art, crest of the Zora Manor and old Zora family emblazoned on the door and back. The crest’s colors are silver and blue, and the driver’s uniform and horses’ tack match beautifully. Link is too caught up in it all to notice his new Lord and Lady waiting for him.

They all pause at the carriage door, Lord and Lady regarding him with cocked eyebrows. They expect something of him, and Link nearly throws himself at the door in order to open it for them. Lord Ruta offers his hand to his wife, but she ignores it while climbing into the carriage. Link keeps his eyes down as the whole thing rocks around as Lord Ruta takes his turn climbing in. Link barely remembers to close the door after that, only does so after a little cough from inside the carriage.

He’s not sure where he’s meant to be after that. And when the driver whistles to his two horses and snaps their reigns, his uncertainty takes on a frantic note. Should he jump up and hang on to the back of the carriage? Should he run along or behind it? Unsure of what to do, Link misses his chance to save himself from a brisk run. The carriage takes off, and Link only manages to keep up out of desperation. And hope.


	2. One Summer's Day

Three years ago, Link had discovered that the garden is his favorite place in Zora Manor. That truth holds up now, too, as he bursts out of one of the many doors that lead into it. He’ll have to return to his duties soon, especially with the arrival of a guest. But for now, with his Lord and Lady busy saying their goodbyes, he has a moment to himself. His Lady is leaving again. Lord Ruta is sending her away to visit her parents. Well, the official story is that this is her idea. Link knows the truth. Every instance of Lady Ruta “visiting” or “vacationing” somewhere is at the behest of her Lord. Manners don't allow her to openly protest these adventures, but Link knows she hates them. Lord Ruta sends her away to rid himself of her watchful eyes for a few weeks.

If only Link had known that day, that day he'd met them and watched them quietly argue about something in the tavern. He would have known she was trying to protect him, even continued to try when Lord Ruta invited him to become his page. This is certainly better than sleeping in the streets. He doesn’t doubt that while wandering towards the base of a tree to sit amongst the flowers and grass. He’s not gone hungry or nearly froze to death since living with them. But…

The ground is dry and firm under his back as Link lies down under the tree. This is a moment of respite for him while the Lady is still in the house. He is unsure of how long Lord Ruta will leave him be. The Lady dislikes them being alone, knows her husband’s predilections well. Link knows them now, too, but would rather swallow his tongue than repeat or admit them to anyone. Sighing, Link rolls onto his side, giving his back to the manor. His days of peace will now wither like these flowers under the summer sun.

Months have passed since Lady Ruta’s last trip away from the manor. Her husband had struggled to find something logical for her to do. He can’t just ship her off to the other side of the world for no reason. The public and high society eyes are on him too much, and Hestia is beloved by too many for foulness. Link knows his Lord would willing send her away to an asylum if the social backlash wouldn’t ruin him. So Link is especially kind and doting on his Lady, because without her, he would be lost. She treats him coolly, but he understands why. She has never shared the marital suite with her husband. But Link has.

Another sigh, the dreadfully hopeless sort, rips out of Link’s mouth. A tulip bobs in the morning breeze by his face, and he reaches up to rub a petal between his fingers. Tulips are his Lady’s favorite flower, and he remembers planting these for her. He’d done it after a particularly long trip of hers to a vacation home by Lake Hylia. Lord Ruta had kept her away for a month, a month of madness and hunger. She’d seen the bruises on Link right away, knew immediately what he went through. She is kind and fair, though, and does not blame Link for this. He is a victim just as she is. But he knows she’s human, and it’s easier to hate him than her husband. So as a sign of respect and thanks for her return, he’d planted tulips in the garden. It had been one of the few times she hugged him. Link suspects Lord Ruta doesn’t even know his wife’s favorite flower, how she takes her tea, or any of that sort of thing…

Link will miss her. She is what keeps the relationship between him and Lord Ruta professional. A page serving his master. When brought here, someone had explained his duties, how he should dress, how he should behave. He hadn’t known, lied simply to appease Lord Ruta’s obvious temper and escape a life on the streets. Link frowns with his head cradled on his arm while trying to remember when it had all started. Lord Ruta hadn’t tried to consume his life and free time right away. He must have known Link knew nothing of a servant’s life, had basic manners, yes, but not enough to make his polite tone automatic. Link’s ears had ached during those first months when Lord Ruta or anyone else would pinch and pull him by them for his transgressions.

Link had preferred that to finding himself alone with Lord Ruta. His study had seemed so welcoming, dark and comfortable with bookcases and plush chairs. An order to fetch a book from across the room only to have his Lord’s warm body plaster him to the shelf had taught him otherwise. Of course, Lord Ruta had been gentle and dotting at the time. He still is in a way. Link isn’t afraid of him anymore. He knows that Lord Ruta values him more than he lets on. It had been Hestia who’d sent the last boy away.

Link rolls onto his back to watch the blue sky filter through the tree boughs above him. He often wonders what had truly happened to Rusty. What had happened between him and Lord Ruta for Hestia to finally put her foot down and spirit the young man away. No evidence of Rusty’s existence remains in the house. Link isn’t even sure what the boy had looked like. Lord Ruta must have kept drawings of him like he does of Link. That had been one of the first signs something was amiss in this house of horrors.

Sometime between arriving at the manor that winter morning and Lord Ruta accosting him in the study, Link had stumbled upon one of his Lord’s sketchbooks. He’d only meant to tidy a sitting room for guests when the book fell from his hands, pages splayed open and covers spread. Too new and too stupid to bottle his curiosity, Link had held the book open and flipped through the pages. Lord Ruta had recently started on this one, and most of the drawings were of him. Link had blushed at first, shocked with the likeness and true-to-life style. His family had been too poor to afford a camera and photography, but he’s familiar with the art. Lord Ruta’s drawings had been like photographs of Link carefully sketched into the page. Some of the settings and poses had been familiar to Link. He could place himself and what he’d been doing in certain sketches. He’d been too busy flipping through the few pages to notice his Lord standing in the doorway, watching him snoop.

“What have you got there, sweet Link?”

Link had immediately snapped the sketchbook shut and held it out to him.

“I’m sorry, my Lord. I was preparing the sitting room for your guests and-and it fell out of my hands. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to look…”

Lord Ruta had just watched him for a few more seconds from the doorway. His slow, casual approach hadn’t done much to ease Link’s tense shoulders. Plucking the sketchbook from his page, Lord Ruta had opened it again to the last sketch done. He’d stood beside Link and lowered the book enough for him to look, too. Just yesterday, Link had fallen asleep on the settee in Lord Ruta’s study. Apparently, Lord Ruta had taken the time to pause his affairs and draw Link in repose. Link hadn’t thought his eyelashes were quiet so long and lush, brushing his cheeks like a maiden’s would. No color had splashed the page, but Link assumed his Lord meant for him to blush while sleeping. Link had swallowed hard while dragging his eyes away from the illustration and directing them up to Lord Ruta.

Golden eyes had lingered on the sketch longer than Link’s, but they finally lifted to meet his. Lord Ruta had shot him a reassuring smile before snapping the sketchbook shut.

“No harm done,” he’d said. “I hope you liked what you saw. You’re very pleasant to draw, my boy. I don’t think I could stop myself even if I tried.”

Lying in the garden, Link wonders what has ended up happening to that sketchbook. Has his Lord continued it? Drawn him once they’re finished in his bed, blond hair messy and cheeks rouged for real? A flutter in Link’s stomach tickles him, and he smoothes a hand over his buttoned waistcoat. Those memories from so long ago are faded and yellowed at the edges, but he remembers that one like it’d happened yesterday. The time in the study, too, with Lord Ruta’s hands at his hips and lips at his ear and neck…

Link shivers as his skin comes alive. Lord Ruta had told him to stand still, excused the moment between them as him missing Hestia. Whether that had been true or not, Link instantly turned towards his Lord and offered him exactly what he shouldn’t. Link sighs and throws his other arm over his eyes. Lord Ruta ensnaring him and making him his had probably been inevitable from the moment he’d run after the carriage that winter morning. Hestia had tried to take her husband’s mind off him, knowing he was the exact sort of thing Lord Ruta wanted the most. Link sighs under his arm and tries not to feed into the pool of despair swirling in his stomach. He must be presentable and proper when their guest arrives. He can’t even remember the man’s name…

“Boy.”

Link’s heart lurches at the deep voice that barks above him. Luckily for him, the space immediately above his head is free. He sits up fast enough to brain himself on air alone.

Standing in the shin-deep grass and flowers, a strange man glares down at him. His trousers and waistcoat are plain, less fancy than Lord Ruta’s. Obviously someone of lower status. But other than that, he is painfully handsome with his deep, red hair and his thick facial features. His hair curls some in the humidity—that or it has a natural spiral to it. The man keeps it tight and high on the back of his head, and his pulled-back locks form rows leading to the bun. Link especially likes his nose and the dip in the bridge between his eyes. Link has seen Gerudo people before, but they’ve never had one in the house.

With a feeling like missing a step, Link realizes this must be their guest. At yet, even with his heart racing from the surprise and panic, he cannot recall the man’s name. Link scrambles in the flowers to stand and offer the man a bow. When he rises again, the man has fished out a cigarette case and takes one out.

“I was told by your master that smoking isn't allowed in this circus tent of a house. You’re his page, right? Said you might be out here.”

Link nods like his head is connected to his neck by a string.

“Yes, my Lord. Lord Ruta doesn't—”

“Knock it off with that ‘Lord’ nonsense, boy,” he grumbles while digging in his pocket for a light. “I'm no lord. Ganon is sufficient.”

Link nods and continues, “Yes, Master Ganon, apologies.”

He groans at that title, too, but Link plows on.

“There's no smoking allowed in the manor. It upsets Lady Ruta and her delicate senses. May I light that for you, sir?”

A scowl twists Ganon’s handsome face, but Link steps up with the lighter from his pocket anyway. He lights his Lord’s pipe all the time and keeps the little device on him at all times, has matches hidden around the manor. When Hestia is away, Lord Ruta will sneak a few smokes in his study. She's unofficially not allowed in there anyway. Link usually throws the windows open and lights a candle or two, just in case she notices when she comes back.

Things turn a little fun when Lord Ruta smokes something that smells nothing like tobacco and blows smoke in his mouth. Link smiles a little while thinking about that and flicking the flint on his lighter. Lord Ruta is… nicer to him. They laugh together, and sometimes they're too uncoordinated to get up to anything more than cuddling or kissing. It's better than when Lord Ruta fishes out a little case from his breast pocket, sniffs hard, and then takes on an excited edge to him. He's insatiable at that point, and Link tries to find anything else to do than be within earshot of his Lord. The click of the lighter shutting draws Link out of his thoughts, and he finds Ganon watching him through a cloud of smoke.

“Daydreaming?”

Bowing his head, Link mumbles, “Yes, sir. I… I will miss Lady Ruta. I'm sorry. Shall I show you to Lord Ruta’s study? He usually accepts his guests there, or perhaps one of the sitting rooms?”

Ganon hums and flicks ash away from them.

“I'm staying here while your Lady is away. Show me to a room so I can rest awhile.”

“Yes, Master Ganon, right this way, sir.”

Ganon pokes a finger in the center of Link’s chest before the page can walk past.

“What did I say about that ‘lord’ business? No ‘master,’ either. And keep it to one nicety every time you speak. You’ll ‘sir’ me into early deafness.”

Link bites his lip with Ganon’s finger still poking him.

“Sir… My Lord won't be happy if I do that. He told me specifically to treat you with the utmost respect.”

“Uh huh.” He flicks the end of his cigarette away, and Link wishes he had put it out first. “Do what you must when around your master, but otherwise, my name will do. Understand?”

Link nods, and the thick finger stabbing his chest finally drops away.

“Good. Now, about my room while I’m staying here.”

Link knows nothing about that. Lord Ruta had only told him to expect a guest and treat him with the highest level of respect. He is to wait on the man’s every word, obey any request no matter how ridiculous. Link is not sure of Ganon’s status or relation to his Lord, but…

“I will… ask and figure out where your room is.” He almost bites his tongue while trying not to add “sir” to that. “Lord Ruta only told me to expect you. I think perhaps he wanted to meet with you before anything else.”

The desire for a cigarette must have upset the order of events. But Ganon just frowns down at him, and Link nearly trips on the stones beneath his shoes in order to get to it. He doesn’t enjoy walking in front of his guest, but Ganon wouldn’t know where to go. He has no choice. Once Link runs into a maid, he finds out which wing of the manor Ganon will stay in. It’s the opposite wing of Lord Ruta’s rooms and study, on the mostly unused side of the manor.

Apparently, the whole Zora family had once lived in the manor. All the rooms had been occupied at one point. Now, the family tree has withered and watered down to just Lord Ruta and Hestia. Apparently, Lord Ruta has an older, half sister: the rightful heir to the manor and family business. She is full blooded from the family line—Lord Ruta not so much. However, she had married and washed her hands of everything. Not even a portrait of her remains in the house, although Link has caught his Lord crying over her multiple times. 

Wing explored a bit—Link directing his guest to where a bathroom and sitting room are—Link leads them to Ganon’s guest room. It has a tiny water closet attached, which Link blushes over since he’d shown Ganon a bathroom moments ago. Of course Lord Ruta would have picked a room for their guest that at least has a toilet in it. Link scampers away with the excuse that he’ll gather Ganon’s effects and return with them shortly. Ganon hums and goes about throwing one of the windows open.

Link sincerely hopes the man abides by the house rule and doesn’t smoke in his room. He holds on to that hope while running downstairs, begging the help of a fellow servant. A stable boy collects the horse Ganon had rode in on, the donkey that carried his luggage. Link and his fellow servant carry everything in one trip, and Link lets out a happy sigh when he returns to Ganon’s side. The room is free of smoke. Ganon leans against the wall near the window and allows the breeze to play with loose strands of his hair. Some of it has come loose from the bun and now flies about his face.

Ganon doesn’t look at him when he says, “Go tell your master I’ll meet him in half an hour. I want to get settled before we talk business.”

Link’s hands flinch above the handles of Ganon’s suitcases.

“Yes, um…” Link stands up straight and curls his hands behind his back. He used to fidget horribly, but with enough snacks to his hands with a ruler, than had stopped. “My Lord advised me that I am to attend to your every need while you are here, Mas—Ganon. If you need anything, please don't hesitate to ask. I'll be within your constant reach during the waking hours.”

Link watches Ganon’s reflection in the window. The glass is clean enough for it, although it could use a good wipe. Link blushes a bit as their eyes meet in the reflection. He wishes the room were cleaner, wishes he had a chance to check it before leading Ganon up here. Ganon smirks a little, a mean edge to it, before twisting at the hip to meet Link’s eyes for real.

“I bet he's not too happy about that.”

Face pinching a bit, Link asks, “Pardon?”

Ganon turns fully around, one hand cupping the sill behind him, and says, “I bet he's not too happy about you following me around while I'm here. He won't be having you to himself with the little Lady gone.”

Link blushes bright red all the way to his starched shirt collar. Ganon can't be talking about what Link thinks he is. No one outside the manor knows about that. Sure, it's common knowledge within these old walls. Especially anyone wandering past Lord Ruta’s study or bedroom when Hestia is away… Outside the manor and within sight of Hestia, Lord Ruta takes great care to control himself. It would be quite the scandal for outsiders to know just where Lord Ruta’s desires lie. Link somehow blushes even harder until his head swims and his racing heartbeat pounds behind his eyes.

Smirk turning a little meaner, showing some teeth, Ganon adds, “Although, you said nothing about tending to me at night. So maybe not all is lost, hmm?”

Link can stand no more and slips on the ball of a shoe as he flees the guest room. Ganon’s booming laughter snaps at his heels like hounds, and Link tears across the manor faster than he’d thought possible. His feet lead him down the wing to Lord Ruta’s study, to the study door. He nearly smacks his face into it when he comes to a screeching halt. Why he'd run here of all places, he isn't sure. Lord Ruta lies behind this door.

Music softly plays from a gramophone beyond the door, so Link knows absolutely his Lord waits inside. He always plays a song after Hestia leaves, perhaps a song performed during their wedding. Link has never asked, since Lord Ruta is always quick to knock the needle astray once someone raps on the door. Link suspects that at one time… his Lord had loved his Lady dearly. Perhaps out of obligation or resignation, but Lord Ruta surely had loved Hestia at one point. Now…

“Come in,” Lord Ruta calls out the to soft rap of Link’s knuckles on the door. 

The music ends, and Link steps inside. He shuffles into the room far enough to close the door behind him and lean on it. His heart still races like a crazy horse. Blush still stains his cheeks pink. He cannot rid his mind of the deep purr of Ganon’s voice teasing him about things he shouldn't know. Link stares hard at the floor in front of him while Lord Ruta says something.

“Sweet Link, are you listening to me?”

Impatience muddles Lord Ruta's mellow voice, and Link winces when he admits, “I’m sorry, my Lord. My mind was elsewhere.”

Seated at his desk, the Lord of the house supports his chin on his hands folded over each other, watching Link across the room. Link resists the urge to squirm.

“I was asking about our guest, but you look rather… upset. Did something happen?”

Link shakes his head and answers too quickly, “No!”

A tease shines through in the little smile that ticks up a corner of Lord Ruta’s mouth. It says that he’s caught Link in an obvious lie. But Link is helpless to correct such a thing. Lord Ruta reads him so easily.

Smile persisting, Lord Ruta crooks a finger at his page and murmurs, “Lock the door and come here.”

The knob of the lock is stiff in Link’s hand as he twists it. He holds his breath, thinking it will resist. It gives with a grind of metal and a decisive click that makes him shiver. His heartbeat kicks up again, and something deep in his belly chases its tail. Lord Ruta will have him again, just like all the last times. It's exciting, but also harrowing. His Lord cares for him in a deep way that is unknowable to Link. He has spent three, long years trying to wrap his head around Lord Ruta’s bottomless desire for him. He's never wanted anything—not even food and shelter when he lived on the street—like Lord Ruta wants him.

Link’s fingertips turn chilly as he approaches the desk. He pauses when Lord Ruta rises and gestures to the window seat. These windows face the front of the house where Hestia’s carriage had taken her through the gates not even an hour ago. Lord Ruta could have stood up here and watched the only thing that bars his desires roll away. That would be suspicious of him, so he bids Hestia farewell in person instead. He must play his part, as Link must play his, now. It's not all bad. Lord Ruta will probably hold him and kiss him, moan about how long it's been. Link’s body barely brushes the cushion of the window seat before Lord Ruta throws propriety to the floor and scoops Link up. They fit well together with Link sat astride his Lord’s thighs. His lap is a familiar place, and Link instantly leans against his Lord’s chest for their embrace.

A slim, gentle hand cups the back of Link’s head and guides him up. Equally gentle lips take his, pecking little kisses to him until Link relaxes. His Lord’s other hand rests lightly on his thigh, making sure Link doesn't slip to the floor. Link keeps his hands loosely curled up in his lap while rocking a little into their kisses. When his Lord moans against his mouth, Link returns his call, although his noise is softer.

Lord Ruta’s hands on him tighten a bit in order to clutch Link to him. Startled, Link’s hands fly up and lie flat on Lord Ruta's chest. His hold isn't meant to push the man away but to steady them. Link’s whines turn higher in his throat when the familiar warmth of a tongue pets across his lips. He opens without a moment of hesitation and meets his Lord’s kisses with gasping breaths and more whines. They stop only when Lord Ruta pulls away, face as flushed as Link’s, but for a different reason.

“Oh, my little love, it's been too long since we’ve had a moment alone.” Lord Ruta's hand in his hair slips around to pet the blush in Link’s cheek. “You taste just as sweet as I remember.”

“It-it’s not been so long,” Link objects just before Lord Ruta pulls him into a few more kisses.

“Mmm, too long for me, sweet boy. I would have you by my side always, if I had my way.”

Link bows his head and murmurs, “I know, my Lord.”

A sigh from the man tickles Link’s hair moments before lips kissing the strands do the same.

“Enough of that,” he says gently. “No ‘Lord this’ or ‘Lady that’ while we’re alone. Let that fall away for now.”

Link rests his head on his Lord’s shoulder while saying, “Yes, Sidon.”

“Better.” The body under his jostles a bit to find a more comfortable position. “Now, about earlier, you walked in here looking upset. Has something happened with our guest?”

Sidon can't know about Ganon’s insinuations. Link scrambles for something to say, some sort of lie Sidon might believe.

“I… Master Ganon found me melancholy in the garden while La-Hestia left us. He didn't think highly of me mourning her departure.”

Sidon hums into his hair before holding him tightly.

“You may find as he stays with us that Ganon has a… prickly sort of nature. You may be unused to his harsh and blunt nature, but do not disrespect him. You are to wait on his every word while he is here, but do save yourself and stay away from him when he doesn't need you. I need to make a good impression on him for this business we need to conduct, and I trust you to do it. You'll behave, won't you?”

Link nods against his shoulder and says, “Yes.”

Sidon rewards him by tangling long fingers in Link’s hair, disturbing the ribbon holding it all back. It slips from the silky locks and floats to the seat beside them. Link makes a note to himself to grab it once Sidon lets him up.

“Good,” his Lord sighs above him once again. “I am curious though… Why would Hestia leaving us cause you such woe? She is not kindly to you, my love. Why miss her?”

Link swallows hard and burrows deeper between Sidon’s arms.

“I would miss either of you if you left the manor,” he confesses, eyes softly closed. “I love my Lord and Lady dearly, no matter what.”

Sidon shivers against him. The hand still holding his thigh tightens, fingers denting Link’s trousers and skin underneath.

“Again, my sweet boy,” Sidon whispers to him. “Say you love us again.”

Link knows what he actually wants. Link’s heart always stirs up like a tiny maelstrom when Sidon is tender to him. He forgets the outbursts that plague his Lord sometimes, how Sidon is short with Hestia and treats her poorly all because she isn't what he wants. Link wishes his Lady could know this side of her husband, that he might show her such affection. Like it should be. But it is not so, and Link calms the eddy in his heart in order to appease his Lord.

Arching up a bit, still sat astride Sidon’s lap, Link pecks a kiss to his cheek and says, “I love you, my Lord. Lady Ruta, too, but not like you.”

Link yelps as the world spins around him and his back smacks into the window seat cushion. He doesn't have time to wonder what'd happened—Sidon shoved him down—as fingers pluck at the buttons on his waistcoats. Open edges peeled apart, Sidon picks at the buttons of Link’s shirt next. He gives up after the first three stubbornly submit to him. He has what he wants—the pale column of Link’s neck free from his clothes.

Link clings to Sidon’s back and arches up at the first bite to his throat. Sidon’s weight settles mostly on top of him, between his legs. Sidon leaves one foot planted firmly to the wood floor of his study so that he maintains some semblance of control. His other leg folds up under him to allow him to slot his hips between his page’s thighs.

Through their underclothes and trousers, it's difficult for Link to feel the hot line of his Lord rubbing against him. He remembers velvety flesh on his all too well, though, and tries to buck under Sidon to give him what he wants. Perhaps it has been too long for his Lord, because Sidon shows him no mercy while sucking and biting a dark mark into Link’s neck. He's keen to start another when the door shakes under someone pounding on it.

“Sidon, your little errand boy neglected to tell me where your study is. Maybe teach him some manners while the Lady is away as a gift for her return, yeah?”

Both men freeze, Link’s skins till between Sidon’s teeth. Another volley of blows from Ganon’s fist on the door breaks them apart. Sidon nearly leaps from the window seat and instantly begins to smooth out his clothes and hair. Link’s fingers tangle in knots as he fights the buttons on his shirt and waistcoat. Sidon shoos him into the closet when Link’s fumbling takes too long. He whispers for Link to stay hidden and quiet before firmly closing the door. In darkness, Link calms down and fans some air on his burning cheeks. He burns elsewhere, too, but there's nothing to be done about those places right now. The door flies open again after a few seconds, but only long enough for Sidon to pull Link up by his jaw to kiss him.

The door shutting with a note of finality truly plunges Link into darkness this time. That kiss, so brief and chaste, leaves Link breathless. He slumps to the floor, head caught in the coats stored in here, and just tries to calm down. Sidon and Ganon’s voices crawl under the door, but Link can't make anything out. He's a mess. His clothes are a mess. He doesn't even want to know what his hair looks like right now. Link bites back a groan when he realizes his ribbon is still out there. Hopefully Sidon will find some excuse to get them out of the study.

“Excellent idea, my friend,” Sidon says towards the closet, intent on Link hearing him. “Let’s move this conversation outside. I have a light on me, matches if you prefer. Let’s catch up over a cigarette or two.”

A gust of air blows out of Link’s mouth. Perfect.

“Will your page be joining us? Who in Hyrule will light your pipe for you?”

Even through the door, Link hears the mean tease in Ganon’s voice.

“I am entirely capable of doing so myself,” Sidon answers with a laugh, brushing off Ganon’s attitude. “I'll let someone know we’re out in the garden. He'll catch up.”

Link nods in the dark and works on putting himself together again. He waits a minute or two, counting the time without speaking, once the door to Sidon’s study opens and shuts. The closet door opens slowly, and he takes a peek out even though he knows he’s alone. Sweat collects along Link’s shirt collar, and he rubs at it after crawling out of the closet. He’d messed up a few buttons in the dark on his shirt and coat, so he fixes them once he stands up.

If Link breathes deeply enough, he thinks he smells the odd brand of cigarettes Ganon smokes. They’re spicy and musky, something different from the tobacco Sidon smokes. Link would know that scent anywhere. Ganon’s cloud lingers and stands out. Link tries to wave the smell away from his face while approaching the window seat. His ribbon is missing. Perhaps… Sidon has scooped it up? Link huffs at having his hair loose and flowing down to his shoulders, but he can't waste any time to retrieve another. He must meet Sidon and Ganon in the garden.

Fully calm by the time he climbs down the stairs and wanders into the garden, Link approaches the gentlemen with a smile. He avoids Ganon’s narrowed stare and heads directly for Sidon. It’s against manners. He should tend to their guest first, but Link can’t forget Ganon’s earlier teasing. If he were a child of this house, he would shy away from the man and hide behind someone. He’s not afforded that luxury here, and the next best thing is to stand beside Sidon and wait for instructions. Sidon will most likely send Link inside for tea or something. Then again, they may truly only be out here to smoke and will return to Sidon’s study soon enough. The day is still pleasant, will be unless a storm rolls in and chokes the valley below with humidity. Link glances to the north to judge the distant clouds when Sidon speaks.

“How was it traveling here? I hope the road wasn't too rough. Have you eaten? Tea sounds lovely right now.”

Ganon hums while flicking a match against the side of its box. He lights another cigarette from his case before whipping the match out. He dumps the remainder in a bucket of sand beside the bench he and Sidon sit on.

Emerald eyes on Link, Ganon asks, “Who prepares the tea? You or someone else?”

Link shakes his head and says, “Not me, sir. One of the staff in the kitchen handles that.”

Sidon frowns while glancing between the two.

“Does it matter?”

“It does if your page doesn't know the proper way to prepare tea, which I doubt he does considering you've just asked that question.”

Link gets the distinct feeling Ganon means to insult Sidon more than him. To disperse the beginnings of irritation pinching his Lord's face, Link turns and asks, “Would you like tea sandwiches as well, my Lord?”

Link’s softly spoken suggestion slowly draws Sidon out of his narrowed stare at Ganon. It borders on a glare, but manners don't allow for that. A breath slips out of firm line of Sidon’s lips before he smiles up at Link.

“That sounds wonderful, Link. Hurry back.”

With a little bow, Link springs away from the garden. An order for Sidon and a guest is filled more quickly than for anyone else. Apparently, Sidon has put the scare into everyone over this guest. As Link watches the tray pile up with teapot, cups, and other things, he wonders just who Ganon is. He's basically disrupted the normal ease of life here, something that would perhaps only happen from a birth or death. Deaths do happen occasionally, but the tension lingers for only a day or so. And births…

Hestia will certainly not be adding to that anytime soon. The rumor jumping from ear to ear is that Hestia is barren. No one dare blame Sidon for the issue, potency or otherwise. Sidon would sooner spread a rumor that Hestia is barren—or perhaps interested in other women—than have anyone suspect him. Link doubts they've ever shared the marital bed, except for maybe their wedding night. But only out of obligation. 

Link blushes while thinking about that. At first, his idle mind imagines his Lord and Lady tangled together, the delicate swell of her breast against Sidon’s face while they hold each other. But his traitorous brain squirms at that and quickly replaces Hestia’s olive skin and soft curves with his own body. Hestia may have never held Sidon’s head while lips kiss and bit down her skin, never shivered and looked down to find molten eyes watching every move she made. She's never arched into his touch and clawed at his back when he finally brought them together. Teeth have never pricked at her neck as they rock together.

The fresh mark on Link’s neck hidden by his shirt throbs. Link hides his face in his hands as the images won't stop flashing behind his eyes, won't stop mixing the image of him and Hestia melting together with Sidon above them. His hair provides extra cover, too, as the silky strands slip from behind his ears. The clatter of the porcelain sandwich plate hitting the tea tray jolts Link, and his head whips up to meet the skeptical eyes of one of the cooks. 

“All right, Link? Your face is awfully red…”

Link grips the edge of the counter where the tea set rests and nods wildly.

“Yes, yes! P-perfectly fine! Just a… little hot in here is all…”

The cook hums, eyes him for a second more, before scooting the tray closer to him.

“I'll help you carry this out. You said Lord Ruta is in the garden, yes? You'll need a table, too. Carry this and I'll follow.”

Link does as he's told, doesn't complain about the heavy tray or how the edges bite into his palms. The cook follows him at a safe distance, and they even stay to set the table up on its legs. They depart with a little bow to Sidon and Ganon, leaving Link to serve. Link hesitates for a second above the first cup. He needs to serve Ganon first, but hasn't an earthly idea how the man takes his tea. After Link’s hands flinch towards and away from the sugar, milk, and tea a few times, Ganon waves him away from it all.

“Enough. I can make my own cup of tea, boy. Serve your master.”

Link holds his hands as if Ganon had actually slapped them. He stands there and watches Ganon rather than start on Sidon’s cup. He wants to see how Ganon takes his tea, to store it to memory so that this doesn't happen again. Ganon pours a meager amount in his cup and doesn't add anything at first. His mouth twists into a frown as he stiffs the steam billowing up from the bottom of the cup. A quick sip doesn't ease that frown any, and Link worries Ganon will have something smart to say about this. However, the Gerudo keeps his mouth tight and shut while pouring a full cup for himself. He adds nothing and nurses the tea neat. Whether or not Ganon usually adds anything to tea will have to remain a mystery. Maybe he'd only taken it to be polite.

Still, Link will remember in the coming days and weeks to just pour a straight cup for Ganon. Sidon takes his sugar and milk with a little bit of tea, and Link isn't sure how the man drinks something so sweet. That done, Link stands at Sidon’s elbow and waits for anything else they may need. It's too warm for him to drink, plus the set had only come with two cups. If Link needs anything for himself, he'll just run back inside and get it. For now, he stands and listens with half an ear to Ganon and Sidon’s idle conversation.

Once the tea is gone and the gentlemen have had enough of smoking, a noon shower wets the earth. Link stays to clean up in the rain while Ganon and Sidon seek shelter inside. He'll look for them in Sidon’s study once he's done here. The tea set is more delicate than anything else, so he carries the tray inside first. Link tries to keep his mind blank while performing such an automatic task. He'd learned a bit about Ganon while listening to their chitchat. Of course, he hadn’t meant to eavesdrop, but he can only dally within his own mind for so long.

The Gerudo is head of a merchant group that buys the raw materials dug out of the Zora family mines up and down the mountain. It's mostly silver, but Link knows they'll refine and sell any metal dug up. Gemstones, too. Ganon’s group is apparently the main buyer of Zora silver, and it makes sense to Link then why Sidon is so ready to do anything to impress Ganon. They're signing new contracts at some point during Ganon’s stay, but the Gerudo has come to negotiate some things. This is all beyond Link’s knowledge, but if Sidon is worried, then so should he. There must be other merchants out there willing to sell metals coaxed from the mines. But maybe the process of finding a new group would be difficult. The atmosphere between the two—how easily they speak to each other, how secure and knowledgeable they are on the topic—makes Link think the Zora family has dealt with Ganon’s merchant group for years and years. Maybe even longer than Ganon and Sidon have been the leaders of the respective groups.

The tea set sparkles with drops of rain when Link returns it to the kitchen. He doesn't linger long enough for a scolding. The little table brought out for Sidon and Ganon is next to put away, and he does that at a leisurely pace. He makes sure to wipe any water off before slipping it back into the pantry. Rain dampens his loose hair and the shoulders of his clothes, but they'll all dry shortly. He swipes a hunk of hard cheese before sneaking out of the kitchen. He'd eaten this morning long before helping Hestia’s handmaiden carry her more delicate belongings to the carriage.

The heavy stuff had been lifted by strapping lads who work in the stables and keep the manor in good shape. They're all boys and young men who live in Tabahl Village below. New faces come and go with the seasons, and Link doesn't have any of their names in his mind. Regardless, they're kind and do as they're told, so Link treats them kindly in return. He hopes they've fared well during this frantic morning, that they're not too stressed from this important visit. Link walks a bit faster down the hall and up the stairs to reach Sidon’s study. He shouldn't waste too much time while their important guest is here. Link knocks before entering, only opens the door once Sidon invites him inside.

Sidon’s eyes wait for him when Link peeks his head in.

“Link, please escort our guest around the house, back to his room, wherever he would like. Also make sure to escort him to dinner tonight, I know the halls and manor can be confusing to those who don't live here.”

Link nods and asks, “Shall I return to you once Master Ganon is settled in his room?”

“Ye—”

“No,” Ganon cuts him off. “I have unpacking to do and a few things needing done. Your page would be of some use to me.”

Sidon thins his lips into a line at that. Link is sure his Lord had meant for them to spend some time together, for them to maybe hole themselves up in here and remember each other fondly. But Sidon cannot deny his guest such a thing and turns hard eyes on Link.

“Stay with our guest until he tells you otherwise. Help him however you can. Understand?”

“Yes, my Lord.”

Ganon stands from a plush chair by Sidon's desk and curls a finger at Link.

“Come along then, boy. I want to relax before dinner tonight. Do you know how to massage feet?”

Link almost throws a pitiful glance Sidon’s way, begging his Lord to not make him go. Between Ganon’s meanness and Sidon’s madness, Link would prefer his Lord. At least that is the evil he knows. Ganon is clearly capable of anything. But Sidon busies himself by digging in a desk drawer, looking for something. Link bottles the embarrassed blush trying to creep into his cheeks and nods once again.

“Yes, Master Ganon, I do.”

“Perfect. Let's go.”


	3. Rusty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We learn the truth about Rusty. Also, some Sidon/Link sex.

_ “Come along then, boy. I want to relax before dinner tonight. Do you know how to massage feet?” _

_ Link almost throws a pitiful glance Sidon’s way, begging his Lord to not make him go. Between Ganon’s meanness and Sidon’s madness, Link would prefer his Lord. At least that is the evil he knows. Ganon is clearly capable of anything. But Sidon busies himself by digging in a desk drawer, looking for something. Link bottles the embarrassed blush trying to creep into his cheeks and nods once again. _

_ “Yes, Master Ganon, I do.” _

_ “Perfect. Let's go.” _

 

Link follows behind Ganon purely out of shame. He should lead Ganon back to the other side of the manor. His feet drag and weigh a ton each, though, so instead he lags behind. Not enough to be rude, of course, but enough to show his displeasure at all this. He keeps his head down, eyes trained on the rug that stretches down the hallway. Ganon opens the door once they reach his guest room and then steps aside. He gestures for Link to enter first. Link does so with his arms stiff at his sides, hands fisted. How much trouble will he get into if he refuses this? If it were any other guest, Link wouldn't even be in this situation.

With Hestia gone, he should barely see any walls except the ones in Sidon’s bedroom. He's so upset about this that he doesn't even blush while thinking that. He'd thought he was in a predicament with Hestia gone and at Sidon’s mercy. How foolish he'd been to think that Ganon couldn't be worse. Link stands in the center of the room, head about to burst from pressure, when Ganon appears at his side.

“Watching your master’s whole face twitch when I asked you to massage my feet almost makes the journey here worth it.”

Confusion making his head hurt, Link twists at the hip and regards Ganon with a thin look.

“Pardon?”

Snorting, Ganon approaches the bed and sits. He speaks while bent over, pulling his boots off and then shedding his waistcoat.

“Your master thought I was serious and took quite offense to me suggesting you massage my feet. But he himself just said to not deny me anything.” Ganon barks out a laugh while bracing his arms behind him on the bed. “Looked like he swallowed his tongue. Do me the favor of lying to him when he asks about it later.”

Wind blows through a hole in Link where his brain had once been. Suggestion? Funny? So… Ganon hadn't meant that seriously? Link had already resigned himself to that fate, and yet the man had been joking?

“I… I will…”

Sniffing, Ganon says, “Good. Open the windows, it’s stuffy in here.”

Link does so if only to take that time to center himself. This man is impossible to read. Barely an hour ago or so he’d made obscene—although true—accusations with a cruel grin on his face. And now he speaks so familiarly, like he and Link are friends. Link shakes his head softly while throwing the second window in the room open. Ganon’s guest room faces the garden. From here. Link spies the tree they’d met under. Sighing, Link wishes he were outside or anywhere else. At least the breeze rolling in through the window is nice, cools the sweat at Link’s hairline. The mystery of his ribbon remains that: a mystery. He wishes he had it, especially if he will be at Ganon’s mercy for the rest of the day.

Link wonders what Ganon actually has in store for him if not the humiliating task of massaging his feet. Although… he's done so for Sidon. It hadn't been that bad, since Sidon’s feet were clean at the time. And his lord had repaid that kindness generously. Gently. Would Ganon perhaps show him better kindness for such a thing? What is the price for a bit of mercy from the man? Link turns back around to ask, and his mouth falls open a bit.

Ganon has stood from the bed and picks at the buttons on his white shirt. The suspenders hugging his shoulders before now dangle by his thighs. The man hums once all his buttons are undone and shrugs out of the shirt. Link watches without any shame, although a pretty flush pinks his cheeks. It doesn't escape him that Ganon is… handsome. In an annoying sort of way. Link doesn't want to think that way about his guest, mostly because of his rudeness, but he can't help it.

Ganon is full figured and filled out where Sidon is not. His beard is thick and well maintained. Sidon looks rather like a mangy cat when his beard comes in, which is why Link wields a straight edge so precisely. Ganon will probably not need that service, unless he wants to keep his neck bare. Shirt dumped on the floor, Ganon rubs a rough hand over the red hair on his arms, flicks dust from the hair on his chest. There's so much of it, and it scratches audibly against Ganon's palms.

His hands do not linger there and soon swoop up to deal with his hair. The ribbon keeping it all tight comes loose, and the red curls once bound fall to Ganon’s shoulders. Even when Ganon drags fingers through the thick ringlets, they keep their shape. His hair is not as long as Lord Ruta’s, but it is just as beautiful. He's powerful in his arms, muscles straining under black skin, but his stomach looks more like a blacksmith’s than a merchant’s. It's a little heavy above the waist of his trousers, but power lies under that skin and hair, too. Ganon is by no means an idle, slothful man. He has to clear his throat a few times to knock Link out of his inappropriate staring. Sparkling, emerald eyes wait for Link when he looks up.

“Get a good look, boy?”

Fists tight at his sides again, this time for a more embarrassing reason, Link objects through his teeth, “I wasn't staring.”

A smirk appears on Ganon’s face as he hums.

“No, of course not.” His hands drop to the waist of his trousers, flicking at the buttons there, too. “Open my suitcases and find me clean clothes. These stink of the road and horses. When you're done with that, fold the rest of them and put them away.”

Link stands there like a fool for a moment longer, wanting to know if Ganon would actually undress around him. The thick material of Ganon’s trousers give a warning lurch down from his hips before Link turns away in a flurry. He'd caught a glimpse of more thick, red body hair and suspects Ganon may not wear small clothes. Of course he wouldn't. A quiet chuckle teases his ears as Link scuttles to the suitcases on the floor and goes about opening them.

He takes great care to keep his head down, to not glance at any reflective surfaces that might reveal the nakedness behind him. Ganon is definitely handsome in the annoying sort of way. He knows Link had been staring, knows exactly what he looks like and the effect that has on people. Link blushes fiercely as Ganon’s dirty clothes land in a pile at his side. Just as Link had suspected, no small clothes mix in with the pile. Everything does indeed smell like sweat and horse, and Link tries to keep out of smelling range.

A huge, black hand appears near Link’s head. In it, his blue ribbon tangles amongst Ganon’s fingers.

“Here. I found this in Sidon’s study earlier. Blue isn’t his color, so I assume it’s yours.”

Link takes it with his blush creeping into his ears and a muttered word of thanks. He makes quick work of his hair, finally scooping it off the back of his neck.

“I need those washed at some point. Did you find fresh clothes for me yet?”

The hand lies suspended in the air, palm up and waiting for him. Link snatches trousers and a simple dress shirt from the open maw of the suitcase. He looks the other way while handing them over to Ganon. He won't look, damn it, he won't! Thankfully for Link’s burning face, Ganon’s hand takes the clothes and disappears. The phantom weight and warmth of someone standing too close to him vanishes, too. Link waits for the rustle of cloth to stop before he moves on to his next task.

He picks up each suitcase and walks them over to the simple chested drawers in this guest room. Ganon won't have any idea what clothes are where, but Link also doesn't want to ask him for specifics. He just folds everything as told and organizes clothes like he would for Sidon. The second suitcase reveals small clothes, blessedly, and Link piles those into the top drawer. Everything else ends up in lower drawers. Ganon hasn't brought much with him, and yet he'd said earlier today that he will be here while Hestia is away… Sidon had told him Hestia will be away for the better part of a month, so…

“Does this circus tent have running water, or will I have to wait half an hour for hot water for a bath?”

Link doesn't turn from his task while saying, “Yes, there's running water. The bath across the hall has a tub, but we have new plumbing that lets you bathe while standing.”

“Wonderful,” he says like it’s not. “I'll deal with that after dinner. When you're done with my suitcases, go fetch some water and a cloth for me. Some soap if you can. I’ll freshen up for now. The humidity here will drown me.”

Suitcases empty, Link shuts them and carries them back to the bed. A space between the floor and frame is perfect to store them while Ganon is here. He's thankful to find Ganon fully clothed again, although the top three buttons of his shirt lie open. He's barefooted and almost bare chested while sitting on the bed, arms braced behind him. He tips his head back while trying to catch the breeze from the window. Link has grown used to the humidity, can barely recall the climate of Castle Town or Hyrule Fields. A cool cloth would do Ganon good.

Link leaves without a rebuttal to Ganon’s comment and finds a basin left in the bathroom across the hall. Cool water and cloth collected, Link returns and sets them on the vanity. It's a squat, pretty thing sat at the wall across from the bed. It has a mirror in it, although Link doesn't see Ganon as the vane sort. He watches the Gerudo in the reflection, watches him struggle with the thick air in here. Perhaps opening the windows hadn't been such a good idea.

“It's because of the rain,” Link points out softly. “The air will dry up again soon.”

A green eye cracks open and meets his in the mirror.

“Do you always ogle people when they're not watching you?”

Link immediately drops their stare like Ganon’s eyes had burned him.

“I-I don't mean to.”

Ganon sighs, rolls his shoulders around, and then stands from the bed. He approaches Link while rolling his sleeves up to his elbows, and Link can't help but stare once again at him.

“Your excuses are wasted on me, boy,” he says not unkindly. “Own up to your curiosity. Never seen a Gerudo before?”

Link scuttles out of the way as Ganon approaches the vanity and sits to wash his face.

“No, I have! It's just… most of my Lord’s guests are familiar to me. I may not know them by name, but their faces are known to me. I've never met you before, and Lord Ruta has never stressed such… respect towards a guest before.”

Ganon snorts with the cloth covering his face.

“Kiss ass.”

“What… does that mean?”

Water splashes on the vanity’s surface when Ganon throws the cloth back into the basin. The water clouds from the soap he'd used to clean his face.

“Means your master is worried and is trying everything he can to make sure I'm happy.”

Link forgets himself and asks, “Why is Lord Ruta worried?”

Ganon turns the beginnings of a sneer towards him and grumbles, “None of your business, boy.”

More meanness. It's exactly the opposite of what Link wants, and it hurts more every time. He buttons his lip after that and watches Ganon pick the basin up and move it to the floor. Some curls tumble over his shoulder, and he bats them away with a grunt. Once settled, Ganon takes a few minutes to wash his feet. The milky water turns dirty from sweat and whatever else Ganon has on his feet. Dust from the road perhaps. Sand from his homeland?

All Link knows about Gerudo Valley is that it's sandy desert. Mostly a wasteland, if he believes what his lord says. But just as people around the village and manor say Hyrule Fields is nothing but a grassy wasteland, Link knows better. He bets there is much more to Gerudo Valley than just sand. He wants to ask, but Ganon probably wouldn't appreciate him being nosy like that. Ganon doesn't seem to appreciate most things.

“All right,” he sighs while straightening back up in the chair. A cock of his head sends his hair back behind his shoulders. “That's as clean as they're going to get without an actual bath. Refresh the water so I can finish up.”

Link nods and carefully delivers the dirty water back to the bath. Rinsed and refilled, he lays the basin back on the vanity and then waits at Ganon's elbow for more orders. The man could at least say “please” and “thank you.” Even coming off the streets homeless and dirty, Link had known that much. He holds his tongue about it, though. He knows what sort of verbal lashing Ganon would give him for anything other than silence. He so wishes Ganon would treat him with a modicum of mercy.

Perhaps handing over a proverbial olive branch to the man might soften him? Ganon’s earlier tease of massaging his feet comes to mind, and Link had already resolved himself to such a fate. Worst comes to worst, Ganon may kick him away or ridicule him some more. Link hesitates for a moment with his fingers tangling in front of his stomach. Cloth rung out, Ganon wipes the chilled thing across the back of his neck. He lets loose a sigh at that and moves on to his collarbones after wetting the cloth again. He finishes off by folding the cloth in half and laying it across his eyes. Head tipped back and arms relaxed on the arms of the chair, Ganon sighs again.

“Damn this humidity,” Ganon murmurs thickly. “Giving me a headache.”

Swallowing hard, Link lowers himself gently to his knees. He'd like a pillow or at least a rug under him, but he won't dare snatch a pillow off the bed. Blond hair spills from Link’s ponytail and dangles by his eyes. Flicking it back won't do any good, and Link wishes he had a headband to keep it all back. Again, he wishes for a pillow for his knees. To take the time to retrieve both may annoy Ganon. Besides, there’s a good chance Ganon won't agree to this. The man doesn't give off the air of someone who likes most things. So why waste the time getting comfortable? None if he'll only be rejected in a second or two.

Link carefully lays his hands on one of Ganon’s ankles. The man jumps under that touch, but no powerful kick comes Link’s way. Ganon lifts up an edge of the cloth over his eyes to stare down at Link. They watch each other for a stuffy, silent moment.

“What sort of idea have you got in your head, little page?”

Lips in thin line to hold back his temper, Link says, “I… thought to do as you asked earlier. Your feet are clean now, so…”

Ganon snorts and drops the edge of the cloth back down. He shuffles in the chair with his hands curling over the armrests.

“I meant that in jest, boy. I'm not going to ask my business partner’s catamite to rub my feet, no matter how much I want to get under his skin. Make yourself useful elsewhere.”

Irritation rising, Link sucks down a calm breath while reaching for the leg hole of Ganon’s trousers. He rolls the hem up despite the Gerudo’s flinch and props Ganon’s foot on his thigh. He won't be the child here and lash out at Ganon like the man probably expects. He likes annoying people and watching their reactions. Link had literally experienced Ganon go through that exact motion with Sidon earlier. He'll probably experience it first and secondhand as the days go on.

Something else that strikes Link like déjà vu is the sense that Ganon is insulting him. He'd done it to Sidon earlier by speaking harshly to him about tea. Link suspects he's done it again, and the word “catamite” rings between his ears. He tries to keep his curiosity in check, but as he forces his thumbs into the ball of Ganon’s foot, he can't hold it in. Once Ganon’s first groan quiets, Link speaks up.

“What does that mean? ‘Catamite?’”

A long, deep sigh slips out of Ganon. It reminds Link of a time he’d seen a horse down, huffing and rolling in pain. Link’s thumbs shift down, focusing on the arch of Ganon’s foot, and that punches another sigh out of him. Tilting his head up, Link startles a bit to see Ganon watching him, cold cloth clenched in his hand.

“Didn’t know Sidon’s tastes drifted towards the daft. Is your skull empty between your ears, boy?”

Mouth screwing up in a frown, Link reaches up Ganon’s ankle and pinches the delicate tendon there. Ganon jumps and hisses from the pain. His glare doesn't look too murderous, but Link is too angry to heed any warning lying there. He will probably land into a world of trouble for this, but he doesn't care. He's tired of his heart aching every time Ganon insults him. They've only just met today, but Ganon treats him worse than vermin! Perhaps Sidon will keep them apart once Ganon admits Link’s disrespect. That's what Link hopes for after Sidon punishes him for this.

“First of all, my name is Link. You would do well to use it. Second of all, just because I don't know what a word means doesn't mean I'm stupid.” Link glares up at wide, green eyes before bowing his head and getting back to his task. “I don't suppose you know the gestation period of a cucco egg, do you?”

Ganon’s foot is relaxed under his hands. No kick to his face or shoulder comes.

“No… Reckon I don't.”

Link snorts at that, sounding not unlike Ganon.

“And yet I do. But I wouldn't consider you ‘daft’ for not knowing. Please show me the same courtesy when I confess ignorance.”

Ganon’s foot does tense at that, and Link drops his hands. The kick must be now. However, all Ganon does is set his foot flat on the floor and sit up in the chair. A shadow passes over Link, and then pressure thickens the air above his shoulder. One of Ganon’s huge hands reaches for him. Link can't help but flinch away, assuming Ganon is about to yank him up by his shirt for some sort of retaliation. But Ganon’s hold on his shoulder is gentle. It holds him tightly enough to nudge him forward, but nothing else.

Link lifts his head in order to face whatever Ganon has to say to him. He uses the lingering wisps of his anger to block the blush that wants to pink his cheeks. People don't often touch him, except Sidon. And Ganon doesn't strike Link as the touching type. And to know that Ganon would touch him—and gently at that—stirs up something in him. He denies it for now and holds fast to his resolve.

Ganon release his shoulder only to peel the collar of his shirt away. It's slightly damp from sweat, but otherwise clean. Pulling on the collar in this way reveals the mark Sidon had made on him earlier this morning. Link does blush now, but it's the embarrassed sort. He swallows hard with his heart stuck in his throat and turns his head away from Ganon’s stare. He has no explanation, no excuse for the mark. What excuse would anyone believe for the harsh bruise? That he'd caught himself on something? A fly thought to bite him? No,  _ this _ sort of bruise only blooms under particular circumstances. And Ganon knows exactly what they are, who they involve.

Ganon’s thumb brushes the extreme edge of the bruise when he murmurs, “What do you think it means?”

Link wants to rip himself away and cover the mark, but he can't unstick himself from the floor to do so.

“I… I would suppose…”

“It means someone in your exact position. A young boy who bears the desires of an older man. I’ve never heard it used in a positive light.”

Foolishly, Link’s eyes dart up to meet Ganon’s. His face is calm, tone neutral. Perhaps the knowledge of Link’s service to Lord Ruta does not disgust him? He doesn't want others to know. His fellow servants knowing and shooting him nasty smirks is bad enough. Ganon is a guest here. Ganon’s opinion shouldn't matter, but it does. Link isn't sure why. But unable to take Ganon’s attention any longer, Link reaches up and covers the purple mark on his neck. Ganon’s fingers slip away as their skin brushes. Heart swelling even harder than before, Link bites the inside of his cheek to not flinch.

“Does he hurt you?”

Hand still clamped tightly over his neck, Link jerks his head up to meet Ganon’s eyes again.

“What?”

“Does he hurt you?”

Link’s stomach gives a warning lurch, threatening to turn inside out.

“I would… rather not speak of such things,” Link admits, shoulders on the rise towards his ears.

“I remember little Rusty,” Ganon says just as softly as before. “Sidon was not so easy on him. Something about him inspired a cruelty streak in your master. But you seemed to have fared better.”

“Do you know what happened to him?”

Ganon hums at that and relaxes in the chair again.  His foot rises from the floor, and the heel rests lightly on Link’s thigh. Link welcomes the distraction and goes right back to rubbing circles into the sole with his thumbs.

“All I know is something happened, something that pushed the little Lady too far.” Ganon chuckles, although it lacks any sort of humor. “She never did approve of his weakness. She threatened Sidon with something, I assume divorce or exposure, and in order to maintain his image, he allowed her to send Rusty away. I only met him once, during a similar trip as this one. Rusty’s plight was obvious to me the moment I met him. I had second thoughts about you until we saw each other the second time this morning. I'd hoped maybe Sidon changed his ways, but I see that he has not.”

Link deems the first foot done and gently moves it off his thigh. He scoops Ganon’s other one up and gives it the same, slow treatment. He focuses on the physical aspect of this rather than drown in woe over Ganon’s words. So Hestia sending Rusty away had been true. She'd said so all those years ago when they met in the tavern. Link wishes he could recall exactly what she'd said, but time dilutes the words until they're only smears in his memory. Link would happily dwell within his own mind, but Ganon’s foot shifts in his hands. A toe prods at his upper arm.

“How old were you?”

Link’s hands still where they cup around Ganon’s foot.

“Does it matter?” Link asks with a tiny voice.

Ganon yet again takes his foot away, and Link makes no move to steal it back.

“No, I reckon not.”

Ganon shifts in the chair before getting his feet under him. He steps around Link’s kneeling form and wanders back toward the bed. When Link doesn't immediately rise and follow, Ganon returns to nudge him with his knee.

“Your shame is your own, Link, but do not allow it to consume you. Nothing is forever, and boys eventually grow into men. He'll have nothing to do with you then.”

Link can't stand the pity. It boils in his stomach until he flings his head up, almost glaring at Ganon once again.

“He is… not unkind. To me.”

Link’s admission must surprise Ganon, because his eyebrows flick up towards his hairline. Link wrestles himself to his feet in order to narrow their height difference. Ganon towering over him and pitying him is too much.

“It is some sort of madness the plagues him. I know that. But…” He shouldn't say more. It's none of Ganon's business, won't change his pity. The words flow out of Link’s mouth anyway. “I had nothing before I met him. I'd run away from home like a stupid child, and I ended up here. I don't know where I would be without him.”

Face smooth, Ganon says, “Probably dead.”

That draws out a snort from Link. Ganon’s face relaxes at the sound, and the corner of his mouth even ticks up.

“I can't say that you're wrong,” Link admits with a full-body sigh. He has to remember not to rub his hands on his face in a nervous habit. They need to be washed. “It could be worse than this, though. I am thankful for many things despite my Lord’s… ways. He cares for me in some fashion and… he is not unkind. He is even gentle most of the time.”

“Indeed.” Ganon finally moves away, taking his shadow and warmth with him. “Spare me the gory details, though. Seeing that mark on your neck is quite enough for me.”

Link’s eyes follow Ganon’s form as it approaches the bed and sits again. They watch each other for a moment or two, and Link assumes Ganon will send him away or say something to dispel the tension that lingers in the air. He can’t deny that a wave of relief floods him and washes away some of the anger and shame in him. What makes it better still is that Ganon had figured this out on his own and almost immediately. He’d known about what goes on here before even walking into the manor this morning. Somehow, that makes Ganon aware of all this easier. It takes some of the control out of Link’s hands and leaves it to the cosmos. Unless Sidon and Ganon weren’t involved, there is no way Link could have avoided Ganon knowing. The last of the tension in Link’s stomach finally evaporates when Ganon nods to the bedroom door.

“Go wash your hands before you forget. And thank you.”

The words of appreciation stir Link’s heart, and he nods in lieu of speaking. His voice might break if he tries. Maybe… maybe showing Ganon kindness first—and showing a little gumption by scolding him—had been the key to this after all. Ganon’s niceness just now doesn’t have the same tang as pity. Besides, being kind to Link because of his situation wouldn’t help any. Ganon would probably go right on being a prick regardless of what happens to Link behind closed doors.

Link goes over all this as he washes his hands—thoroughly. They’re soft and still damp when he returns to Ganon’s guest room. A quick wipe on his trousers gets rid of the dampness. Ganon watches him with a cocked eyebrow like he thinks ill of Link using his clothes to dry his hands like that. Link pays his judging no mind now that he knows the man has a lick of gentleness in him. He’s a lot of bark rather than bite.

Shuffling on his feet at Ganon’s knee, Link says, “You’re, um, welcome, by the way. And thank you for talking to me about Rusty. He’s sort of a forbidden topic around here.”

Ganon pats the bedspread next to his hip.

“Sit if you’re going to chat my ear off. I don’t need you hovering like a bumblebee.”

Ganon’s quip bites significantly less. Link almost smiles at his barked words, but knows Ganon would just bark some more. Link sits as asked, keeping an appropriate amount of space between them. The room is still stuffy and heavy with humidity. Sitting closer would just invite them to sweat more. Ganon hasn’t done up his shirt, fixed his sleeves, or rolled down his trouser legs. Link suspects that if he were alone, Ganon might just strip entirely. Hyrule Fields had its fair share of humidity, especially during the spring. And with the area being so flat, the humidity had nowhere to go. So Link is used to suffering. At least here, Zora Manor is at the top of a winding pass. It truly is only this humid because of the noon shower. Link holds out for the altitude to suck the moisture from the air. It will happen closer towards suppertime. But for now, Link pushes his physical discomfort aside and focuses on what he’d wanted to ask.

“About Rusty… What do you remember about him?”

Ganon wipes sweat off his upper lip with the back of his hand.

“He was… a quiet boy. Shy. Pretty like you. He was the son of a merchant in the village below. His father apparently knew Sidon or worked for him to some extent. Sidon took him on in order to give the young lad something to do other than get into trouble. As you can guess, trouble found him.”

Link’s heart trips over Ganon calling him pretty, but he ignores that.

Fingers tangling in the bedspread under them, Link asks, “Do you think he was happy here? Was Lord Ruta truly that horrible to him?”

Link can barely imagine such a thing. Lord Ruta touches him with gentle hands, tries to bottle his temper unlike with Hestia. Lord Ruta will sneak him flowers and little trinkets while Hestia is here. Perhaps Hestia’s nearly constant presence makes him softer? Link had heard somewhere that distance makes the heart grow fonder, and there is often space between he and Sidon, however small. Sidon does not risk Hestia’s ire and make advances towards him while she’s here. Link now understands why. Hestia will tolerate her husband’s weakness, but only to a certain extent.

Link wishes with everything in him that Ganon knew what’d happened to make Sidon bow to Hestia’s demands. Then again… Link admits to himself that tenderness for Sidon does lie in his heart. In some unbalanced, unnatural way. Maybe knowing the truth would forever poison him to the man. Link doesn’t want that. Besides, his future already stretches out into the uncertain, the unknown. Ganon’s words, about boys growing into men, rings between Link’s ears. He tries not to think about what will become of him, once he is no longer the sweet boy Sidon fawns over.

“I’m not sure,” Ganon admits, dragging Link out of his thoughts. “What I know of Rusty was all learned after the Lady sent him away. I heard it all secondhand. As far as his happiness is concerned, that… I also don’t know, but would bet no. I don’t think he was.”

“How awful…”

Ganon stands from the bed, mutters, “Indeed,” and then walks towards the headboard.

“I think the only thing this blasted humidity will allow of me right now is sleep. Uneasy, sweaty sleep, but sleep. Either find some place to avoid your master or report back to him if you like. I won’t need you.”

Thick fingers already pluck at the remaining buttons of Ganon’s shirt as he says this. Link nearly spills himself to the floor in his haste to stand and avert his eyes.

“Y-yes, sir, I, um, I will come back and collect you once supper is ready.”

His voice squeaks as he sputters. Link catches Ganon’s quiet laughter as he scuttles from the room. Link doesn’t dare turn back around to bid the man a pleasant nap. He’s seen enough thick, red body hair for today. It’s not… unappealing, although Link would rather down a cup of still steaming tea than admit that. Ganon is still handsome in an annoying way, truce seemingly called or not. Ganon’s barbs hurting him less makes the Gerudo more pleasant, and Link isn’t happy about it. He huffs and pouts while wandering down the hall back towards the grand staircase.

At least serving Ganon while he’s here will be infinitely easier now that Link has seen past Ganon’s rough exterior. Link’s feet once again walk on autopilot while his mind busies itself with this new revelation. He finds himself outside Sidon’s study once again, fist already raised to knock. Link startles on his feet, wondering what in the world he’s doing. Ganon had said he could just go loiter somewhere, didn’t have to report to—

“Oh!”

The door opens under Link’s hand, still hovering like he’d been about to knock. Sidon stands there, collar open and hair piled high on the back of his head.

“How long have you been out here?”

Link lowers his hand and quickly hides them behind his back. He doesn’t want to start fidgeting.

“N-not long. I’m sorry, I was lost in thought.”

Eyebrows coming together, Sidon hesitates a moment before saying, “That’s… that’s all right. Is everything well?” He peeks up and down at hall around Link. “Did Ganon need something?”

Link shakes his head with his eyes trained on Sidon’s maroon waistcoat and its brass buttons.

“No, he’s sleeping before supper. The humidity doesn’t agree with him, and he has a headache.”

Sidon steps forward, and Link must jump to back away quickly enough. The study door closes behind him, and Sidon offers Link a smile.

“That sounds like a great idea. I was on my way to the library, but a nap sounds much better.”

The hallway is deserted. Link is aware of that now more than ever before when Sidon presents his hand as an offering.

“Shall we?”

Returning Sidon’s smile, although Link’s is smaller and hidden a bit behind his bangs, Link nods and takes his hand. He tries to walk a half step behind Sidon, but his lord won’t have it. Their clasped hands keep Link at his side as they wander farther down the hall. The double doors to the marital suite make a dead end of this hallway. Link has roamed down the hall, walked over this red rug many times. He admits it’s been a spell since the last time, though. Again, Sidon tries to show the utmost discretion when Hestia is here. And although the relationship between her and Sidon is frigid at best, she takes up the room directly next to Sidon’s. She would hear anything, know immediately what they were up to if they tried anything. Not that that stops Sidon from staring at him in a wistful sort of way, makes his hands linger when Hestia’s back is turned. And of course Link cannot forget the flowers and little gifts snuck to him. If only Hestia knew of the romance and favor her husband is capable of…

“You fixed your hair,” Sidon says just outside his bedroom. He turns to Link and plays with one of the locks in front of his ears. “I’m not sure what happened to your ribbon in my study…”

Link shrugs. He won’t dare tell the truth.

“I ran back to my room after Master Ganon dismissed me in order to grab another.”

Sidon accepts that excuse and opens one of the doors. He only releases Link’s hand to gesture inside.

“After you, my love.”

The sensation of walking down stairs and missing the last step always assaults Link’s stomach when he's alone with Sidon. It's… not unpleasant. He expects something else, though, like his heart fluttering or his skin tightening with excitement. He's not got it right, somehow, and this tension is what fills him up before the first graze of hands on him. Link keeps his back to the doors and his lord even when the click and tumble of the lock engaging breaks the silence of the room. Link keeps his hands at his sides while warmth blossoms along his back.

Sidon hums just above his ear before gently coaxing Link to turn around. Link shuffles under his lord’s guiding hands and meets his eyes once they face each other. A nap is in order, yes, but the atmosphere between them is heavy with something other than humidity. Link knows his lord is probably damn near ravenous for him after being denied all day. They won't get up to much, but Sidon will have him in some way.

Long fingers play with the buttons on Link’s waistcoat while Sidon asks, “May I?”

Link nods with a smile and stands still as familiar fingers make quick work of so many buttons. Waistcoat, white shirt, and undershirt on the floor, Sidon stands there a moment just to look at Link. Has enough time passed since their last rendezvous for something to change? Sidon stares particularly hard in the center of Link’s chest, and Link finally glances down to see what it is. The causes of Sidon’s intense stare are the few, blond hairs growing in the middle of Link’s chest. They'd popped up one day, only noticed by Link when a pimple or two followed them. He'd worried the spots were bug bites of some sort, having never contracted a blemish on his chest until that point. But the appearance of hair had explained it all. Link worries the few spots he gets along his jaw will run wild if he ever develops a beard. He hopes that never happens.

Sidon hums at the sight of him, this hum not the pleased, aroused one from moments ago. He sinks to one knee and then the other on the rug to even their heights. His hands are warm on Link’s waist and keep him still during this inspection. Unsure of what to do, Link lifts his own hands slowly in order to grasp the still-covered shelf of Sidon’s shoulders. That softens the firm line of Sidon’s mouth. Do the sparse hairs truly displease him that much? It's just hair. He's had hair under his arms and between his legs much longer than this.

Although… come to think of it, Sidon doesn't care for that, either. Link has a pair of tiny, sharp scissors in his bedroom for grooming of such areas. Given to him by Sidon, of course. It's precarious trimming delicate areas he can't even see easily. Link hopes Sidon judges him well maintained once the rest of his clothes are gone. He'd known this day was coming and made sure to bathe first thing this morning and made sure everything was in order. He'd apparently missed a thing or two.

Link shivers as one of Sidon’s hands swipes up from his waist and lingers over his heart. Sidon’s fingernails are long enough for servants to tease him out of earshot, but they're filed and well taken care of. When they dig a bit into Link’s skin, Link can't help his flinch.

“Sidon?” He asks softly. “Is there something wrong?”

A subtle shiver runs through his lord, and Link only catches it because Sidon’s bangs shift in front of his eyes.

“No, of course not,” he replies just as softly. He leans forward to kiss Link’s cheek. “I haven't seen you in so long, and I just wanted to look at you for a moment.”

As he says that, though, he captures a single, blond hair between his nails and yanks it out. Link sucks in a loud breath at the little pop of pain. Sidon narrows his eyes at the hair pinched between his nails before flicking the offending strand away. He does that twice more, leaving only thin, silvery hairs behind too delicate for him to pluck bare handed. The skin around that area stings. Link flinches again when lips peck little kisses there over and over. Sidon catches a groan in his mouth, and this one sounds happy again. Link’s fingers twitch on his lord’s shoulders when Sidon coaxes him close enough for a real kiss.

Link gives his own noises as a bossy tongue surges forward, past his lips the moment they touch. Sidon’s hands are back at his waist and keep him there as they trade messy kisses. Link wishes there were music playing or maybe the windows open to let in birdsong. His whines sound pathetic and needy to his own ears, and each hum of approval from Sidon vibrates into his mouth. It's too much for the thick silence of the room, and Link is the one to pull back and deny his lord more kisses. His lips are already sore when he turns his head away from Sidon trying to drag him back in.

“What about the nap we were supposed to take?” Link asks with a little pout to his mouth.

“All in good time, my boy,” Sidon murmurs right back, pecking kisses to Link’s blushing cheek instead. “Let’s get you out of these clothes, and we’ll settle down.”

Link holds on tighter to Sidon’s shoulders as those nimble fingers attack the buttons on his trousers. Link steps out of his trousers and underwear once they pool on the floor, guided by one of Sidon’s hands on his ankle each time. Link bottles a whimper as his lord’s head ducks down, trailing kisses from the center of his chest down to his navel. Link suspects he'll grow hair there, too, but for now he's as soft as a peach. It must hurt Sidon's neck to crane down like this, but he does it anyway. His tongue flicks just inside Link’s navel, and Link has to stop himself from jumping. He doesn't want to acquaint Sidon’s jaw with his knee and ruin the mood.

Link arches up and onto his toes when Sidon bites him just above his navel next. The hand he'd kept on Link’s waist squeezes him while the other brushes across his chest. Even the light swipe of Sidon’s palm on his skin is enough to excite him further, and soon fingers pluck and pinch his nipples. Link whines above Sidon’s head and shuffles on his feet, desperate for them to move this along or at least make use of the bed. Sidon chuckles at his fussing, plants one more kiss to his stomach, and then rises to his full height again.

“All right, I'll stop.” He says so with a smile and another pinch to Link’s nipple. “To bed with you, my sweet boy. I've been denied long enough, I think.”

Sidon nudges him towards the bed and then takes his hands way. Link turns on a socked foot rather than watch Sidon stare him down while undressing. His Lord’s eyes watch him regardless, setting fire to his backside as Link hikes a knee onto the mattress. Link stays at the edge long enough to peel his socks off before crawling to the headboard. The bedspread and sheets are cool, bed as a whole shaded from the windows and thus the sun. Link flicks the duvet back, but doesn't wiggle under it. They won't sleep just yet. Link suspects his mouth will be busy in a moment, and that idea makes his stomach flip. The tension from earlier, like missing a step, has gone. In its place, syrupy tension pools in Link’s belly, just under skin excited by Sidon’s kisses and teeth. They'll have each other in a frantic, simple sort of way, and then sleep. Link lies on his side, back to Sidon, and waits.

The mattress dips by Link’s feet and then behind him as Sidon lies down. His warmth is immediately too much in the thick air of the bedroom, but Link entertains his kissing and rubbing anyway. Sidon’s sighs and moans in his ear coax Link into relaxing. He has to shed his shame over their relationship before losing himself to Sidon’s gentle hands. There's always a minute or two as they kiss and explore each other where Link is stiff, motions jerky as he gradually remembers how to be a lover rather than a page. The heat of the room and the sweat between them makes that process more difficult. When Sidon carefully coaxes Link onto his back and tries to lie on top of him, Link stops him with a hand and a whine.

“Sidon, please, it’s very warm in here,” he points out, blinking up at Sidon with big eyes. “Can we… do something else?”

Sidon sighs at that, a frustrated thing, and rolls off Link.

“It is a bit thick in here, I will admit.” He watches Link for a spell, one hand in the middle of Link’s chest and the other petting his own thigh. “Come here, then. Tonight will be cooler, and I'll have my fill of you then.”

Link sits up with Sidon, but does not join him at the headboard. The spread of Sidon’s legs tells him exactly where to go. Lying on his front, Link’s hands and mouth get to work on firming up his lord’s cock. Link barely gets a hand around said flesh before Sidon gently taps the back of it. The strike is hard enough to hurt. It's the sort of slap his mother would have given him when he reached for a treat in the kitchen.

“Ah ah, my love, no hands,” Sidon teases above him. His fingers once again flick Link’s ribbon away before diving into blond hair. “Use only that beautiful mouth of yours, just like I taught you.”

Sidon’s hands guide him forward, and Link mouths at the cock under him rather than say anything. Link blushes hard enough to wind himself while nudging Sidon’s cock up with his lips, trying to get at the underside. One it lies flat, pointed up towards Sidon’s navel, Link finally tunes out his embarrassment and gets to it. His wish for music or birdsong strikes again as Sidon’s head falls back with a moan. It only takes some kitten licks and kisses to firm him up. Sidon watching him must help, too.

Link is glad that his lord doesn’t demand he do this with his eyes open. That would be too much. The weight and warmth of Sidon in his mouth is familiar even after so much time. Sidon must remember how much force it takes from his hands to get Link to move, too. They flex a little and coax him into a slow rhythm at first. Link ignores the mess he’s about to make with spit and does as Sidon wants. Link whines as Sidon’s hands bring him all the way down, forcing him to swallow around his cock or choke.

“Just like that,” Sidon pants while rolling his hips up, getting into it, now. “Mind your teeth, my love. I won’t last long like this.”

Link whimpers with his mouth full, trying to hurry this along. Each pull of Sidon’s hands down forces a whimper out of him. At least the spit makes everything easier, and the velvety flesh of his lord’s cock slides past his lips like nothing. It almost feels good, in a distant sort of way like his mouth isn’t his. His lips are certainly numb once Sidon forces him down and holds him there. Link peeks an eye open to watch the little muscles between navel and crotch jump as Sidon comes. His mellow voice strains a little as he moans through the pulses. Link thinks he catches his name in there somewhere, some words of praise and love. Too much blood rushes in Link’s ears for him to be sure, though. Sidon holds his head tenderly as he eases Link up and off his cock. Sidon dragging him back up the bed hurts a little, but Link makes no objection.

“I’m sorry that was so fast,” Sidon breathes into his hair. “I missed you so much, Link. I can’t control myself when we’re together.” He ducks down a bit to kiss Link’s forehead. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

Link shakes his head. He doesn’t trust his voice right now.

Sidon sighs, “Good. I’m glad.” He leaves a hand in Link’s hair while the other gently nudges him onto his back again. “We’ll sleep in a moment, my love. I want to make you feel good first.”

Their skin is damp as Sidon rests his hand possessive and low on Link’s belly. Link stays on his back while Sidon scoots close to his side, almost hugging him. Link knocks his thighs apart a bit, sure that Sidon will just stroke and fondle him until he comes. That won’t take long for him, either. He touches himself when the urge comes, sure, but a lick of shame always accompanies it. The morning after he pants and moans in the night, he always feels as if Sidon knows he’s done so. Like his lord can smell his shame.

It’s easier to just ignore his body and wait until he and Sidon have time together. There’s no shame at this point, not after he’d shoved it all away earlier as they kissed. Link holds on to Sidon’s forearm as his hand moves down, watching Sidon’s fingers dance around his smaller erection. It’s too much, though, and Link closes his eyes and turns his head towards Sidon. Sidon kisses his hair for his trouble before finally wrapping a hand around him.

Link does whatever he wants at that point. He finds a rhythm with Sidon’s hand and rolls his hips into his lord’s fist. Sidon neither directs him nor punishes him for moving. His pleased hum helps cover up the distant sounds of fingers gathering precome and spreading it around, of skin gliding over skin. Link presses his face harder to Sidon’s chest in order to hide his moans. Sidon knows how to get him howling and pleading to come. Fingers curl over his head at the top of every stroke, making sure to trip over the crown and caress the underside.

Link’s hips stutter as each stroke pools more and more heat behind his navel. Sidon watches every twitch from above, eyes intent on catching the moment Link explodes in his hand. The hand he’d left in Link’s hair tightens the moment he thinks Link is about to come. The extra lick of pain at his scalp sends Link over the edge, exactly as Sidon had planned. His mouth hangs open, spilling moans and sucking in desperate gasps, as Sidon strokes him until he’s too sensitive to touch.

“Shh, I’ve got you, my love, my sweet boy,” Sidon coos to him. They make a mess of his fist and Link’s stomach, but it won’t matter for long. “You’re all right, Link, I’m here, I have you.”

The death grip Link had on Sidon’s arm finally relaxes when his hand drifts away. He leaves behind a slew of crescent-shaped marks, but the pain is worth it to see Link in ecstasy like that. Sidon shakes his hand free of locks of Link’s hair in order to take one of the hands that had clawed him. He rubs the back of Link’s hand with his thumb and kisses his hair. Link wishes he weren’t so fragile after an orgasm, but he needs this comfort.

He doesn’t make a fuss as Sidon’s messy hand slips between them. He’s used to this, used to sharing the task with Sidon of licking his hand clean. And if Sidon is cheeky and snags him in a few kisses while they clean up, Link doesn’t object to that, either. He’ll take all the tenderness he can in his moment of need. With Sidon’s hand clean and the little bit on Link’s stomach taken care of, too, they finally settle on their sides.

Petting Link’s bangs off his forehead, Sidon kisses him and murmurs, “Oh, how I love you, sweet Link. I’m so happy that we’re together again I could just explode!” He sighs against Link’s cheek after a few more kisses. “I’m sorry about all this Ganon business. I’ll make it up to you at night. You will come sleep with me in our bed, right? It’s terribly lonely here without you.”

Voice still weak, Link nods and draws one of Sidon’s arms over him. He prefers to sleep here, too. Sidon is warm beside him, holds him tenderly. If Link startles awake in the middle of the night, sprung out of a nightmare, Sidon is there to coax him back to sleep. And when they wake up, Sidon is there to kiss and cuddle him until they must climb out of bed. Of course, sometimes they get up to other things, but Link doesn’t mind that. He’d spoken the truth to Ganon earlier. Sidon is not unkind to him, is gentle most of the time.

As Sidon scoots down to nuzzle Link’s chest and probably fall asleep there, Link can’t help but recall Ganon’s words about Rusty. Link draws a trembling hand through Sidon’s hair, loosened at the top of his braid from so much activity today. Sidon had apparently treated Rusty horribly, so horribly in fact that Hestia put her foot down and ended it all between the two. Sidon’s breathing slows, each puff of air against Link’s chest coming longer and deeper. Link buries his mouth and nose in Sidon’s hair and tries not to think about that. The history between Sidon and Rusty is just that: history.


	4. The Limit of Cruelty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's Wednesday, whata ya know lol. If you're reading this story, please remember to comment. Slam that comment button right in the dink.

Link sees little of Sidon during the day thanks to Ganon. While Ganon and Sidon are in business talks, a few lawyers present too, they cast Link out of the study. So he wanders the manor like he usually does or just spends time in his room. But when Ganon and Sidon are not in such secretive business talks, Ganon makes it a point to spend as little time with Sidon as possible. He declines tea with the man, excuses himself from dinner claiming a headache, and is generally unavailable to the master of the house. He keeps Link with him in these instances, only sends Link away at night with his dishes and a pointed look. Neither of them can ignore the marks on Link’s neck, how he stumbles in the morning. They do not speak of such things, and life goes on.   
  
Manners dictate that Sidon appear put out about Ganon’s unavailability. Only Link knows the truth. Ganon deliberately avoids Sidon, and Sidon is all the happier for it. They dance around disliking the other’s company for propriety’s sake, but the reality is that they’re happy to avoid each other. Both men are tense after business talks. Perhaps it's not going well, that or Ganon’s snark gets the best of both of them. Link keeps his mirth over this to himself. He doesn’t offer details on one man to the other—not when he’s sorting Ganon’s meager laundry nor when he’s lying there post-orgasm with Sidon and they talk a bit before sleeping. Link is not an innocent bystander in this situation, though. A week has passed, and on this particular morning, Sidon’s nerves are thin.   
  
Link serves him breakfast in the marital suite. However, Sidon paces along the windows and has no interest in Link’s labor. Link watches him for a spell before sighing to gain Sidon’s attention.   
  
“My Lord, is something the matter?”   
  
Sidon’s head whips around, and his eyes are a little too wide.   
  
“Don’t you start on me, now.”   
  
Link flinches away despite the distance between them, despite Sidon making no move to come closer.   
  
Shoulders hunching, Link sputters out, “I-I’m sorry, I don’t know what’s happened. Please tell me? Let me help you?”   
  
Sidon finally stops pacing by the window and leans on the sill. He rubs a hand over his face, freshly washed when they’d risen from bed an hour ago. Sidon had seemed distant at that time, too, urging Link to hurry and dress to go retrieve breakfast from the kitchen. Last night… Sidon had turned away from him and bid him goodnight without a kiss or anything else. Something is amiss, and Link worries it's something he's done.   
  
Link leaves breakfast on the side table he’d set it on and joins Sidon at the window. He doesn’t touch his lord at first, wary of his simmering anger. If it is angled at him, then he should walk on tiptoes. If not, then he needs to regard Sidon with caution. Even witnessing his lord’s anger while not the focus of it is damaging. Sidon sighs from under his hand and lowers it to join its brother on the sill. He glances at Link without turning his head, and the steel in his eyes does nothing to comfort Link.    
  
“Please tell me what's wrong,” Link says again. “To see you upset is distressing. Let me help you.”   
  
“My problems are beyond you,” he snaps back.    
  
Link tries not to flinch at the hot skillet of Sidon’s anger.    
  
“Perhaps talking about it will help? Please, my Lord, at least tell me if it's something I've done.”   
  
“Must everything be about you?”   
  
Sidon whips around to face him. His braid comes circling around his head and bounces off his cheek. That increases the flame of his irritation, and Sidon smacks the thick braid back over his shoulder. If the situation wasn't on a knife’s edge, Link might laugh about it.   
  
“I said my problems are beyond you, and yet you pester me endlessly!” He gestures uselessly with both hands towards Link, grasping for words. “And-and your whining! It’s incessant! A moment of peace and quiet is all I ask, allow me to think without your voice grating on my nerves!”   
  
Link’s eyes are huge and shine with wetness as he stares up at Sidon. It must strike the master of the house that he’s overdone it, because he leans on the windowsill again, not looking at Link. His hand reaches up to cover his eyes once more. The whole line of his shoulders is tense, knees locked under him. Link holds his breath in order to force down the hot ball of emotions in his throat. It burns like he’s swallowed fresh tea too quickly, too impatient to let it cool.   
  
Sidon’s anger blows a hole through him, and Link aches where he’s empty. He swallows hard and stares down at their shoes. Sidon… thinks he’s whining? His words are meant to comfort his lord, not annoy… How can he express his concern over Sidon if not by offering comfort and support? He would reach out to touch Sidon, but that would clearly prove disastrous right now. Sidon has never struck him, but now would be the time for it. His Lord teeters on the edge, and Link won’t push him.   
  
Sidon sighs from under his hand and says thickly, “I’m in no mood for you right now, Link. Please leave me and attend to someone else. Somewhere else.”   
  
Link’s lips part to object, but no sounds come out. Sidon won’t look at him, hasn’t moved his hand away from his eyes. The need to know what ails his lord freezes him to the ground despite Sidon’s searing temper. He must know if it’s something he’s done. He must make amends if so! To have Sidon angry with him and stew in that anger won’t do. Thoughts of this argument and Link’s mind playing “what if” games will plague him. Link reaches out a trembling hand for Sidon’s arm, but the master of the house lifts his head with fire in his eyes.   
  
“Go.”   
  
Link jumps at Sidon’s hard voice. The steel in his eyes doesn’t soften, and Link spins on the heel of a shoe and flees. In that moment, with himself in the crosshairs of Sidon’s ire, he’d thought of Rusty. He’d imagined a pretty boy like him, but with red curls atop his head, flinching away from Sidon and pleading with the man to not hurt him. The image freezes his heart, and he walks away as fast as he can from the study. Rusty and the history between him and Sidon haven’t been far from Link’s mind since Ganon’s first day here.   
  
He’s tried to put it aside, put it out of his mind. But as the days go on, Sidon’s temper grows shorter and hotter. Sidon yelling at him just now bolsters Link’s suspicions that Sidon is cross with him. Is he perhaps angry that they see each other so little during the day? Sidon had been the one to hand down the order that Link dote on Ganon and obey his every whim. How can Sidon be angry at him for just following orders?!   
  
Scowling down at the floor, Link startles out of his irritation when he doesn’t immediately realize where he is. His feet have led him far from Sidon—physically and emotionally. He stands in front of Ganon’s guest room. At least his company would be wanted here. And if not, Ganon’s meanness is mostly empty after a week of it, and Ganon sending him away won’t hurt. Probably. The image of Ganon snapping at him and sending him away with a stern remark makes his heart squeeze until he can’t breathe.   
  
Link lays a hand on the bedroom door and just stands there, alone and unhappy. This time while Hestia is away is supposed to be a freeing sort of time, a time where he and Sidon are supposed to be tender to each other and be together. He won’t blame Ganon for any of this. He and Ganon have found a sort of… prickly friendship during his stay, and Link isn’t upset at all that he’d walked here lost in his thoughts. He also shouldn’t bother Ganon, though. Link’s hand peels off the door as he turns away when it opens.   
  
“What are you doing, standing in the hallway like that?” Ganon grimaces at him. “Get in here.”   
  
“I-I’m sorry,” Link says, voice smaller than normal.   
  
Ganon sticks his head into the hallway in order to look up and down it. His hair is already done up, and Link admires it when Ganon bends a little. Ganon sees Link is alone and then grabs him by an arm. He tugs the page inside before closing the door behind them. Link avoids meeting his eyes and instead holds a hand over where Ganon had grabbed him. It hadn’t been hard enough to hurt, but Ganon doesn’t touch him unless absolutely necessary. And honestly, Link wouldn’t mind a little comfort right now. Sidon’s harsh words still rattle Link’s insides. Maybe Ganon’s vicious tongue, as used to it as Link is, is too much right now. He’d probably been wrong, since even now his stomach flips at Ganon’s short tone. Link glances up at him through blond bangs and finds Ganon blocking the door, scowl on his face.   
  
“What happened?”   
  
“Nothing,” Link lies while staring down at the floor.    
  
“I wasn’t due to see you for another hour or so, and yet I open the door to find you cowering out there like a kicked dog. So what happened? I know it was Sidon, so don’t bother trying to protect him with your lies.”   
  
Link wants to snap back at Ganon, but he doesn’t have it in him. His stomach is terribly twisted and sick. He's thankful he'd eaten nearly an hour ago, leaving little for him to toss up. Ganon sighs in front of Link as he clams up, though. Link’s hesitation perhaps proves even further than something is wrong. And just like that first day, when Link had showed him vulnerability, Ganon softens his approach. He lifts a hand while closing the distance between them. Holding one of Link’s shoulders, Ganon directs him to a side table where his breakfast sits. Someone else brings it to him in the morning, since Link’s first duties of the day are to Sidon.   
  
He nudges Link to sit in a chair and then takes up the other. Toast, bacon, and fried eggs are on offer along with fruit. It’s almost the exact same tray Link had brought up for Sidon, minus the fruit. Ganon gestures to what remains before supporting himself on the table via his elbows.   
  
“I doubt you’ve eaten, and even if you have, it couldn’t have been as good as meat and eggs. So eat. Then we’ll talk.”   
  
He could steal a rasher or two if he wanted. The head cook in the morning wouldn’t rat him out to anyone, and Sidon wouldn’t actually punish him. But he sticks to his breakfast of oatmeal regardless of his privilege. He doesn’t eat with Sidon, either. Even though Sidon takes his breakfast privately most of the time, Link does not join him or share food with him. Sidon has never offered, and Link knows it would be foolish to ask. They are still page and lord, after all. Sidon may carry affection for him in some way, but the power imbalance still exists. Even now, Link’s training makes him hesitate to eat from Ganon’s tray. Ganon’s mouth twists down at that. He scoops up a slice of toast, a fried egg, and some bacon. He nearly shoves them off the table while slapping it all on a plate and placing it right in front of Link.   
  
“Eat,” he grunts.   
  
Duty to follow an order is what forces Link to eat. He stares at the table between them rather than meet Ganon’s eyes. The soft yolk of the egg breaking under his teeth knocks Link out of his stupor. He rocks forward in the chair in order to not drip yolk on his clothes or the floor. Ganon snorts at him, and the mood lightens instantly. With his mouth full, Link can't smile, but he wants to. He eats delicately after the egg makes a mess of his fingers and the plate.   
  
Ganon is right. His oatmeal doesn't compare to this. He might not feel so tired after a few hours if he had this to eat every morning. The thought to ask for more enters Link’s mind and just as quickly dies. Ganon would probably give it to him, but Link cannot overlook his manners. Ganon passes him a cloth napkin, which Link takes with a little bow of his head. The yolk leaves a sticky residue on his fingers and palm, but for the most part he's clean again. Food squared away with, Link blinks at Ganon through his bangs.    
  
Strip of bacon snapped between his teeth, Ganon gestures at him with the rest of it and says, “Talk.”   
  
He speaks with his mouth full. Link’s lips twists at that, but he doesn't feel the lurch of insult like when they'd first met. Ganon is part of the social elite here, but he does not carry the airs with him. To call him unrefined would be a deep insult, but no other term comes to mind. And when Link thinks it, he does so with a note of affection. Ganon is like… the raw ore that men pry out of the earth. He is beautiful and wondrous in that rawness, and only the muscle of others forces him into refinement. Ganon is not like them. He is the silver and gold buried too deep to reach, never discovered. Ganon doesn't spare a thought to rolling up his sleeves, blowing his nose in front of company, or talking with food in his mouth. It's not charming, but… it's something. It makes Link smile despite his upset over Sidon.    
  
“My Lord is… upset today,” Link puts it lightly. “His nerves are thin and I worry I—”   
  
“Put it out of your mind,” Ganon cuts him off. “It’s nothing to do with you.”   
  
He grins after that and sits back in his chair, knees spread like a king on his throne.    
  
“Not that it's any of your business,” he drawls, still smug, “but our contract negotiations aren't going his way. Even the lawyers agree what Sidon wants is outrageous. Yesterday was sort of the final blow for his plans, so now he's scrambling to come up with an alternative. You were caught in the crossfire.”   
  
Link’s nod is hesitant, but he understands.    
  
“I… see. He sent me away rather sternly. I guess I've never seen him like this before.”   
  
“Count yourself lucky.” Ganon stands from breakfast and goes about digging in his pocket, fishing out his cigarette case and box of matches. “Read the sky and tell me how the weather will be. It rains every damn day, and it seems to target me whenever I step outside.”   
  
“We have an almanac downstairs, I think. Or maybe in Lord Ruta’s study…”   
  
Ganon waves his words away with his free hand. He offers Link the case and matches before shrugging on his waistcoat. The sleeves of his shirt remained rolled up to his elbows despite the struggle. Link tries to keep his eye down and away from the swell of muscled arms, from how Ganon’s waistcoat compliments his figure. There will be time to… admire Ganon later. Much later.   
  
“Nevermind. I think it's early enough to avoid the shower. Come.”   
  
Link’s feet scramble under him to follow Ganon’s swift departure. He nearly drops the man’s cigarettes in his haste. But clutched in his hands, Link scurries after Ganon and catches up with him down the hall. He'd left the door open so that a maid can come in and tidy the room, take breakfast away. Ganon says nothing to him as they march down the stairs and exit into the garden through a sitting room. Someone has opened the white, folding doors that lead outside in order to air out the room. Judging by the folded pile of hand towels on a table, today is dusting day. Link is eternally grateful that his physical labors are restricted to fetching things and… bowing to his lord’s desires. He hadn't enjoyed physical chores while living at home, and he doubts he would enjoy the dusting and silver polishing that goes on here. It's probably five times the home to care for, maybe more.   
  
Ganon leads them to a bench under a tree and gestures for Link to sit beside him. The bench is dry when Link checks, so he accepts Ganon’s offer. The cigarette case shimmers in the sunlight as Link flicks it open to draw one out. He holds the delicate thing up for Ganon to take and then strikes a match once Ganon holds the filter between his lips. Link carefully ignores the way that fire flickering in Ganon’s emerald eyes sparks flecks of blue in his irises. The match casts a harsh light and shadow on Ganon’s face, making him appear older. Regal. Link almost burns the tips of his fingers on the match when he holds it for too long. He whips it out with a bitten back hiss and then sits quietly at Ganon’s left side. He's still trying to collect himself when Ganon speaks.    
  
“Thanks,” he grumbles. The cherry end of the cigarette bobs as he talks. “What's on your master’s agenda today?”   
  
“I'm not sure. We hadn't gone over it yet before…”   
  
“Mmm.” Ganon plucks the cigarette from his mouth between two fingers. The smoke is grey and spicy just like all the other times. “I wonder if he'll realize what an ass he was and make it up to you. That would surprise me.”   
  
Eyebrows coming together, Link asks, “Why would that surprise you? Lord Ruta is usually kind to me. His upset today was caused by stress, so he probably feels remorse over his actions.”   
  
“Don't hold your breath over that,” Ganon warns him. “You're Rusty’s successor, and Sidon is a creature of habit.”   
  
“But…” Link turns to him a little on the bench. “You said I’m different.”   
  
Ganon scoffs and corrects, “I said you fared better. If Sidon has not struck you before today, then there is still tomorrow, the day after that, and the day after that until you escape his service.” Ganon turns towards him, too, and their knees brush. “Your master has a thirst for cruelty and innocence, and he will drown you in his endeavors to have it. Do not mistake his kindness. Sidon is as ruthless as I am.”   
  
Link’s lips thin into a tight line as they stare at each other through the cigarette smoke. Only a light breeze carries it away. Ganon is the first to relax and rest his back against the bench once more.    
  
“I don't believe that,” Link says firmly, still twisted on the bench. He meets Ganon’s narrowed eyes and holds the stare. “There are times when everyone must be harsh. But those moments do not define them. I don't believe that about Lord Ruta or you.”   
  
Filter at his lips, Ganon takes a drag off his cigarette while glaring back at Link. Lungs full, he exhales in Link’s face through a gap in his lips. The grey smoke billows and curls away once it hits Link’s face. His eyes water, and he instantly lifts a hand to wave the smoke away.    
  
“You have no idea,” Ganon nearly growls, “the limit of cruelty. Mine or Sidon’s. And you're a fool to have such blind faith in those who would destroy you.”   
  
Coughing, Link sputters out, “W-what’s the harm in, hah, seeing the good in people? Not everyone is so wicked as you make out.”   
  
Ganon hums at that and thumbs the filter in his cigarette. Ash drops down to their feet.    
  
“You are young,” Ganon muses before another drag. “Such knowledge will come to you. One day, you will look back and appreciate my wisdom.”   
  
Thumbing moisture from the corners of his eyes, Link scoffs at that. This is more like the typical banter between them. When Link opens his eyes a bit clearer, it's to Ganon’s right hand holding the cigarette in front of him. The Gerudo’s warmth blossoms pleasantly along Link’s right side as Ganon leans closer to him. The balls of their shoulders brush through their clothes.    
  
“Here,” Ganon says while nudging the filter closer to Link’s face. “You're too high strung for someone your age and someone unmarried. Take up the gentlemanly sport of smoking.”   
  
Link almost laughs while gently trying to push Ganon’s wrist away. He says it like he knows smoking is bad, causes cough and bad breath, but is duty bound to spread the disease.    
  
“No thank you, sir. Lord Ruta doesn't allow me such vices.”   
  
“No smoking? No drinking?” Ganon makes a face at him, and Link does giggle at that. “No whoring? What, are you to remain innocent forever?”   
  
That just makes Link recall Sidon kneeled before him, nails ripping out his sparse chest hairs before deeming him satisfactory again. Biting his lower lip, Link throws a glance up to the windows looking down on them. Sidon’s study faces the front of the manor. If he's there, he won't see them out here. However, the marital suite spans the corner of the upper story. No shadow lingers in those windows, but that doesn’t mean Sidon won’t hear of this. He can always explain it away as submitting to another one of Ganon’s odd requests.   
  
Besides, he's fibbed a little to Ganon just now. Sidon does allow him a few sins. Sidon shares his pipe sometimes when he's smoking something other than tobacco. And Sidon gives him wine if they have a night in front of the fire or if they take supper in his study. Sidon allows him other vices, but… They're frilly, lacy things, and Ganon would surely judge him. Link blushes a little as Ganon insists with the cigarette still between his fingers. Some ash falls, and a tendril of spicy smoke curls under Link’s nose. It's more pleasant when Ganon isn't blowing the smoke right in his face to prove a point. Taking his eyes off the windows, Link sighs and sits forward.    
  
“How do I do this?”   
  
“Hold the filter between your lips. Don't slobber on it like a dog, just hold it.”   
  
Link waits for Ganon’s hand to drop away once he's done that, but his fingers remain. If they stay like this, Link’s lips will touch his skin.   
  
“I'm holding it for you so you don't drop it and burn yourself. Suck lightly to pull smoke into your mouth. I wouldn't inhale if I were you. I'll have you throwing up on our shoes, and I only have one other pair with me.”   
  
Link’s shoulders jump in a giggle, but he bottles it when Ganon flicks an eyebrow up at him. The filter is awkward in his mouth, and the paper is damp from Ganon smoking it, too. The odd tobacco Ganon smokes smells spicy in his exhales. It's more so when Link tries to take a drag.    
  
“A little harder. Normally, you can see the cherry or hear the paper burning. You’d develop a feel for it without looking if you smoked long enough.”   
  
Link wants to hum or nod to acknowledge he'd heard, but he doesn't think that's a good idea right now with an ember almost in his face. So instead, he does as Ganon says and sucks what he thinks is “a little harder.”   
  
“That’s too much,” he grumbles. “You’ll cough doing—”   
  
Link yanks his mouth away as smoke stabs the delicate back of his throat. Oh, how it burns like nails clawing inside his throat! He manages to turn his head away just before spit flies out of his mouth as he coughs. Link smacks a hand onto the bench as his upper body tries to squeeze every bit of air out of him. Eyes watering even worse than before, Link blinks tears as he struggles for breath. He clings to the bench for dear life as every cough sends him rocking.   
  
His grip is what saves him from spilling onto the ground when Ganon gives the top of his back a solid smack. Link’s buzzing ears finally tune into Ganon’s hearty laughter, how the bench shakes as he chuckles. Shoving at tears with the heel of his palm, Link turns a bit in order to watch Ganon laugh. His large hand is warm on Link’s back where it’d never moved after Ganon hit him. Breaths come shallowly and shakily to Link, but he’s calm enough to watch Ganon settle down with a smirk leftover from his mirth.   
  
“Nearly coughed yourself to death, just like I thought,” he teases. He pats Link’s back once before dropping his hand. “Good first try. You didn't throw up or choke too badly.”   
  
Link’s voice breaks when he tries to speak. He wheezes a few times to try and start a sentence or two, but nothing comes out. Smirk still stretching his lips, Ganon makes use of the cigarette one last time. Smoke curls from under his grinning teeth like a dragon before he flicks the cigarette away. With his hands free, Ganon reaches into his waistcoat for something.    
  
“Here.”   
  
A flask. Link shakes his head and rests his hand over Ganon's, pushing lightly.    
  
“N-no, truly, I think that's enough for today.”   
  
Ganon rolls his eyes and pushes their hands and the flask into Link’s chest.    
  
“Just a little to soothe your throat. Otherwise, you'll be croaking all day and lead your master to suspect I've liberated you of innocence in other ways.”   
  
Ganon’s thick eyebrows waggle at him for a second, and then he takes his hand away. Link blushes to his hairline. He turns away from Ganon a little in order to save face. The man always smirks at him when he catches Link blushing like this. Ganon is grumpy at the best of times, but… when they're alone, and especially if Link is down, Ganon has this flirty, light way about him. He knows at those moments that Link needs a bit of comfort, and he offers it the only way that's acceptable between them. And even if some of Ganon’s word play goes over Link’s head, it's still fun to watch the Gerudo loosen up a bit. Maybe this is more how he's like at home. Maybe the stress of traveling to a land that doesn't agree with him temperature and weather-wise makes him sharp around the edges. Link sighs with the flask still in his hand, thoughts chasing their tails between his ears, and toys with the cap.    
  
“Just a sip or two,” Ganon advises.    
  
Nodding, Link holds on to the cap in one hand and lifts the flask up to his nose. The alcohol inside smells a bit like medicine, but also extremely potent… caramel? Link eyes the dark opening of the flask and takes a tiny sip. It stings on his tongue, and Link almost gives in to coughing again. But Ganon snorts beside him at his squirming, so Link resists that. He knocks the flask back like he's seen Ganon do and finally gets enough alcohol in his mouth to swallow.   
  
It burns the back of his tongue, but once he actually swallows, the irritated bit in his throat tingles. The pain numbs some, and Link’s sinuses clear. He blinks at the flask a few times before taking another sip. This one is even more pleasant than the others. The alcohol is bitter, made probably more so by the steel of the flask. Link suspects it would taste better drunk from glass, no additional taste imparted to it. Link smiles at that thought and doesn't fight Ganon’s hand when the man scoops the flask out of his.    
  
“I reckon I should have told you one sip,” Ganon muses not unkindly. He plucks the flask’s cap out of Link’s right hand next. “Your cheeks are rather pink.”   
  
Link rubs one with the curled knuckles of his hand and mumbles, “I’ll… claim I've had too much sun. No one will question.”   
  
Ganon hums, partake in his flask, and then stands.    
  
“Back inside with you. The hair on the back of my neck is standing up, and I worry the sky will open on us any second.”   
  
Link hums, buzzing a little at his fingertips, and forces his jelly legs under him. Ganon’s smirk at his peaceful expression doesn't escape Link’s notice. Neither does the brief flash of red stepping away from one of the windows above. He's too warm to worry about it, though, and throws the thought away as a trick of the light. It’s something to worry about later, if he’d seen anything at all. The world and the colors in it sort of flash and swirl before his eyes anyway. It’d probably been nothing. Link follows Ganon back inside, and they retire to Ganon’s room where he nods off slumped in the window seat.   
  
One of Ganon’s large hands gently shaking him startles him back into the waking world some unknown time later. Ganon springs him from the middle of a dream. Link blushes when he sits up and grasps at the edges of his dream. Already it slips from his mind as Sidon’s smiling face from the doorway comes into view. But before he slams the door shut on such things and resumes his role as page, he distinctly recalls large hands petting his hair and cheeks, a warm voice chuckling at him. The heat in that voice had not been Sidon’s.   
  
“I'm terribly sorry to do this, my friend,” Sidon says to Ganon, “but I find myself in need of my page. Might I steal him from you for the afternoon?”   
  
Ganon’s friendliness from this morning is long gone, and he regards Sidon with a hard face.    
  
“For what purpose? What if I need him?”   
  
Sidon must not expect resistance. His face twitches for a moment, much like when Ganon had suggested Link massage his feet. But he schools the expression and offers a more charming smile.    
  
“The house is staffed with plenty of men and women who would be happy to run any sort of errand or task you have for them. I'll send someone up before we leave.”   
  
Ganon still stands at Link’s bent knees. He glances down at Link, calculating something. Link doesn't dare meet his eyes. He stares down at Sidon’s shoes instead. The air thickens for a moment, like just before someone starts shouting. But just as quickly, it dissolves, and Ganon turns fully toward Sidon.    
  
“What are your plans for the afternoon?”   
  
Link doesn't see Sidon’s lips part and his eyes narrow for a second. He blinks the confusion—or perhaps annoyance—away and speaks after a few seconds.    
  
“I'm going into the village to look for a… gift. For my wife. Link is gifted, you could say, with picking out the perfect things for her.”   
  
That's a lie. And a bold one at that. Hestia spares no love for Link. And besides knowing things that make her happy, he has no idea what sort of gift she might like. No, something else is going on here. Link lifts his eyes and finds Sidon staring at him.    
  
“I was thinking a new dress for her,” he says casually. “Something along those lines.”   
  
Oh yes, this trip is definitely meant for him. Ganon had been right. Sidon wants to make amends for their tiff this morning. Sidon’s way of making amends is with gifts. Link isn't so sure he wants to visit the back room of Sidon’s personal tailor and submit to whatever game of dress up his lord has in mind. Link drops their stare and wishes he could look up at Ganon instead. Link is still fragile inside from Sidon’s ire, and he doesn't want to go.   
  
These trips are always harrowing anyway. Not that Sidon’s tailor would squeal to the village that Sidon likes his page in dresses and stockings, but… what if someone sees him in them? The tailor’s back room is actually his workshop, and he has an area cordoned off with a black curtain. Behind it, a little platform sits surrounded by tall mirrors on three sides. There is enough light for the person on the tiny stage to see themselves, to twist around in whatever they're wearing to see all the angles. He and Sidon have been there many times under the guise that he's shopping for Hestia. She never sees a single purchase Sidon makes on those days.    
  
Ganon hums beside him and says, “I will accompany your party into the village. I need a few things myself.”   
  
“No, no, that won't be necessary,” Sidon is quick to excuse. “I'll send someone down for you, if you'll just make a list.”   
  
“I'd rather do it myself. And your page can assist both of us, since he probably knows where everything is.”   
  
Link finally can't deny himself any longer and tosses a glance up to Ganon. He finds the Gerudo’s face hard and pinched. It's a typical expression he wears when Sidon is in his company. Like he's eaten something that didn't agree with him. He doesn't take his eyes off the master of the house. It's probably wise with the way Sidon stares at Ganon as if the ire in his eyes could incinerate their guest where he stands. But of course nothing so fantastical like that happens.   
  
Sidon’s lips thin into a line as he glances between his page and guest. Link recalls distantly, while he'd been a little loopy in the garden, a flash of red from one of the windows. Had… had Sidon seen them? A window or two from the marital suite faces the garden, but why would Sidon be anywhere except his study during the day? Especially with how annoyed he'd been. He would sequester himself from the servants and stew in his agitation. Link sweats a little while they all stand there, and the collar of his shirt turns damp.    
  
“I… I suppose that would be all right.” Sidon turns his eyes on Link and adds, “Take our guest wherever he needs, understand?”   
  
“Yes, my Lord.”   
  
Link barely gets his voice out to respond. Ganon is going with them… But why? Ganon loathes spending time in Sidon’s company—within hearing distance, honestly. So why would the Gerudo subject himself to this? Link worries at his lip while retrieving Ganon’s overcoat. But he waves Link away when he tries to help him dress. Ganon takes the coat from him and throws it on the bed. Sidon has already turned on a polished shoe and strode out the door. They have a narrow moment alone, and Link holds Ganon’s gaze when green eyes pin him on the spot. They cannot risk speaking right now. Sidon is probably just outside the door.   
  
But Ganon’s thick features soften. Just enough for Link to know it's an expression of comfort. Ganon means to safeguard him as much as he can on this excursion. Maybe Ganon and Sidon will annoy each other so much that Sidon will pass on their trip to the tailor’s. Ganon nods a little towards the door, and Link exits before him. Ganon is a firm presence behind Link as they make their way down the stairs and out to the carriage already waiting. Sidon must have called it around in anticipation of Link joining him—unable to answer any other way, more like.    
  
Link holds the carriage door open as he's supposed to. Sidon and Ganon enter as they're supposed to. But when Link goes to close and lock the door, to follow along behind or hang on to the back of the carriage, Ganon smacks his hand into the door. The handle vibrates in Link’s hand from the force.    
  
“What are you doing, boy? Get in here.”   
  
Just over Ganon’s massive shoulder, Link catches Sidon’s eyes. It's not proper—at least in Sidon’s service—for him to ride in the carriage. He's never been inside it except to maybe clean up after passengers. Sidon stares hard at the side of Ganon’s head for a moment. Link watches the fight drain out of him, gold eyes slid shut, and then Sidon turns his head to glare out the window. Ganon still sits there, teeth gritting and eyes narrowed. Link hesitates for a moment longer before climbing up and into the carriage. The door shuts behind him thanks to Ganon.   
  
Link knows better than to sit beside Ganon and takes up the space beside Sidon. He's closer to the door this way anyway. Link makes sure not to touch his lord and to sit up straight as the carriage bounces along. It's a silent ten minutes down the long lane that ends in Tabahl Village below. Link keeps his head and eyes down the whole time, ready to jump out the moment the carriage comes to a stop in front of the post office. There's more room there for carriages and horses to park than anywhere else on the main street.    
  
This is perhaps the most awkward thing Link has done—climb out the carriage and hold the door open for the other passengers. Other passengers. What a novelty. Link stands on the cobble street and hopes with everything in him that Sidon doesn't punish him for this. He hadn't just helped himself to riding with them! What was he supposed to do, say no to their guest? Sidon has made it out that he should bend over backwards for any request Ganon has, no matter how inappropriate.   
  
Link lets out his sigh only once Sidon is far enough away, headed for the post office. Usually someone delivers their post, but Sidon may have sent word down for the postmaster to hold anything. Ganon lingers by the horse that had drawn the carriage down. Cigarette already between his lips, he pets the horse with his left hand. He doesn’t strike the beast’s side like Link has seen other gentlemen do. He keeps his movements slow, voice low as he murmurs between drags of the cigarette. Ganon also takes care to blow the smoke with the wind so that it doesn’t bother the horse. Link smiles at the exchange, and Ganon catches that smile when he tosses a glance over his shoulder.   
  
“What’s that smile about, boy?”   
  
Sidon wanders down the lane, eyes already on them, so Link keeps the smile out of his voice.   
  
“Nothing untoward, Master Ganon. Just enjoying the day.”   
  
Ganon scowls up at the sky.   
  
“It’s going to rain.”   
  
Sidon almost rolls his eyes, and only Link is the one to see the aborted expression.   
  
“Yes, well, we’d better hurry, then. I’ll just head to my tailor’s with Link and we’ll—”   
  
Ignoring Sidon completely, Ganon walks past them and barks over his shoulder, “Where is the butcher in this village? I’m tired of pork.”   
  
Link isn’t sure what someone would look like while swallowing their tongue. He has a decent idea of it while watching Sidon’s face as he turns to follow Ganon.   
  
“Right this way, Master Ganon. We have a grocer, too, if you need anything else.”   
  
Sidon remains stony and silent as they wander down the village’s main street. Link hides his glee as Ganon drags them into every store. Sidon will surely give up this trip to the tailor’s once the rain kicks in. And every time they exit a store, the air grows thicker, the sky darker. When they leave the last shop—skipping the tailor’s deliberately—sprinkles darken the cobbles in little drops. The patter increases on the store roofs and surrounding trees until a light downpour tries to soak everything.   
  
Link grabs Ganon’s hand in the torrent and runs them towards the tavern at the crossroad of the village. Sidon must trot along with them through the rain, because when Link bursts through the tavern’s doors, Sidon is hot on their heels. His lips are in a thin line to match his narrowed eyes. Link quickly gathers a few hand towels from the bar man and distributes them to his lord and Ganon. Ganon takes his with a grunt. Sidon takes his with a slow hand, dragging the grey cloth from Link’s hand with purpose. He's not quite angry, not angry like this morning. Just… at his limit for Ganon’s fooling around. Link reads it plainly and knows he will not get out of the tailor trip today.    
  
“Master Ganon,” Link begins quietly. “Might I leave you for a moment to attend to my Lord and his errand for Lady Ruta’s gift? We won't be long.”   
  
Ganon scowls at him while wiping his face. It's not meanness directed at him. Softness lingers in places on Ganon’s face—the creases of his nose and the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes. No, the scowl is just his only way of showing his displeasure. Link is sure now that Ganon had absolutely meant to keep him from accompanying Sidon anywhere alone. Link wishes he could thank Ganon for such a kindness right now, but they haven't the time. Sidon has perked up immediately at Link’s soft voice suggesting such a thing.    
  
“Give me a moment and I'll accompany you.”   
  
Link shakes his head, a spike of icy fear tearing through him, and lays a hand on Ganon’s arm. They both stare for a second at Link’s hand touching him before their eyes meet.    
  
“I know how you detest the rain,” Link points out, fighting the tremor in his voice. “Please, don't trouble yourself. Stay here where it's warm and dry, and we’ll return shortly. We won't be long.” Link twists at the hip to regard Sidon behind them, gaze hooded. “Right, my Lord?”   
  
Feeling the heat of Sidon’s stare, Link drops his hand from Ganon’s arm. He imagines that his palm tingles after they disconnect, and Link flexes his hand a few times to drive the sensation away. He can't think about that right now with Sidon watching them, calculating and connecting dots. In an attempt to distract his lord, Link steps forward to block his view of Ganon. Well, block it as much as his short, slight frame can. But Link knows he is a beacon to Sidon, and that golden gaze slides from Ganon to Link, just as planned. Link smiles up at Sidon and takes a step forward. He means to encourage Sidon and reassure him that he wants this, too. It's the first moment during their trip today where Link has tried to dissuade Ganon from tagging along. The sooner they escape to the tailor’s, the sooner this will be over.    
  
“That sounds like a fine idea to me,” Sidon says at last with a sigh. He turns on a heel, issue settled, and adds, “Come, Link. Before the rain turns the road into a river.”   
  
Link nods at Sidon’s back, but lingers even as Sidon strides back out the tavern’s doors.  The little page tosses a wide-eyed glance up to Ganon. He wants comfort, reassurance. Ganon’s mouth is in a tight line as he stares at the tavern’s doors. He catches Link staring at him and softens the glare in his eyes when their gazes meet.    
  
“Go,” he says softly.   
  
He wants more than that. But he knows Ganon won't give it to him. Somehow, Ganon knows that to show Link a moment of tenderness would place him in danger. Greater danger than he’s already in. Sidon’s jealousy has become palpable during this trip, and Ganon will only go so far to arouse Sidon’s ire. He won’t put Link in the line of fire. So, all he can give is that softly spoken word and the promise in his eyes that everything will be okay. Ganon must know how much Link doesn't want to go, to do this. But he must.   
  
Link nods farewell and slips out the doors. He must catch up with Sidon or face his lord’s questions over the delay. He finds Sidon taking the long way around in order to avoid the rain. No one had thought to grab an umbrella from the manor. So, they make due by walking under the porches of the stores. They must cross the street at some point, though. So they wait until they stand in front of the tailor’s, just with the cobble street between them. Link follows a few steps behind Sidon when they finally dive into the rain. Running would just kick up water and make them trip on the slippery stones. Still, they make quick work of the downpour and soon stand in front of the tailor’s. Link keeps his eyes down and his thoughts quiet as he opens the door for Sidon. He hesitates a moment more outside, grasping for calm and peace. He casts a look around the fog rolling over the street, blinks back towards the tavern, and then joins Sidon inside. 


	5. Shaken

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mmmm this chapter. THIS chapter. Shaking the floorboards of Link's confidence in Sidon. And by "shaking" I mean like, earthquake lol. ENJOY.

A smile graces the old tailor’s face when he says, “Ah, Lord Ruta, how nice it is to see you. Terrible weather outside, isn't it?”

“Indeed.” Sidon offers his overcoat and gloves to Link while adding, “Have the last few months fared you well?”

They chat casually as Link tucks Sidon’s gloves into the inside pocket of his coat before hanging it. They'll be here long enough for Sidon to go without those layers. Link steps back to Sidon’s side, and that's when the old man catches sight of him.

A flinch passes over his face for a split second when their eyes meet. He knows instantly what Sidon is here for.

“What can I do you for, my Lord? Something for the lady today?”

Link wants to hunch his shoulders up by his ears. Why continue the charade when the tailor clearly knows why they've come? Here for Lady Ruta indeed.

“Yes, I was thinking of something for spring. Perhaps a nightgown for the balmy nights or something like that?”

The old man considers Link for a moment. Something bounces around in his head, and Link wishes he knew what. It's not in the tailor’s interest to try and spare Link shame or embarrassment. He knows Sidon’s tastes, and according to his thoughtful frown, he doesn't agree with Sidon’s suggestion.

“Actually… after the last dress you purchased, the green one with the gold embroidery and ribbons, I had a thought to create something new for you. Or with you in mind, my Lord.”

Sidon nods and asks, “May I see it? I’ve trusted your judgment all these years, so it must be something exquisite.”

The tailor gestures through the open door to the side of his counter. Sidon steps forward, leaving Link in the shop.

“Won't be but a moment, Link. Stay out of trouble.”

The tailor’s head pops out almost as soon as they leave, and he orders, “Young man, might you lock my door? No point in keeping open for now.”

Nodding, Link gladly steps farther away from the darkness of the tailor’s back room and locks his door. Just like in Sidon’s study, the lock is stiff from age and resists in Link’s fingers. But it gives after a twist of his wrist. Link doesn't move from his spot in front of the door. It occurs to him to flip the tailor’s welcome sign from “open” to “closed.” He does so with numb fingers. The urge to give in to his hounding, circling thoughts makes him shake harder.

He remembers the green and gold dress. The tailor had to teach Sidon to tie up the laces in the back, cinching them to force Link’s body into an hourglass shape. He's worn it exactly once, mostly because he'd fainted in Sidon’s study just from standing up too quickly. Link suspects Sidon needs more lessons in tying such a garment shut. He blames his lord for tying the ribbon too tightly and impacting his ability to breathe. If the tailor has come up with something similar…

“Link! Come here, please!”

Link and the tailor almost run into each other when they try to go through the door at the same time. Link yields to his elder. Once the path is clear, Link tries to heed his lord’s call. The tailor’s wrinkled, gnarled hand in the center of his chest stops him.

“Take a deep breath just before he starts tightening it,” he whispers vaguely into Link’s ear. “When he starts, exhale and push your stomach out. That will leave you some room when he ties you too tightly.”

Link stares with wide eyes at the old man as he hobbles across the store. He reaches the front door and unlocks it, reopening for business. Lord Ruta’s patronage is not so great that the man has the luxury of closing shop entirely while they're here. Link will have to remember to bottle his noises. Sidon calling his name again startles Link, and he scurries on his feet to answer. He knows exactly where to go in order to find his lord. Link holds back the black curtain surrounding the tailor’s little platform and finds Sidon with his hands behind him. His Lord’s smile tries to widen when Link peeks in, and only his teeth sunk into the lower lip stops it. Link clutches the black curtain behind him and watches Sidon through his bangs.

“We don't have much time, my little love,” Sidon tells him, grin still on his face. “Come here and close your eyes. I'm going to undress you and show you what I've bought for you just now. I know you'll love it.”

Link bends at the knee to undo the laces on his shoes. He steps out of them and leaves them out of the way so that no one will trip. That done, he steps up toe to toe with Sidon and closes his eyes. Sidon must have meant what he said about them not having time. Sidon does not dally while plucking at the buttons of Link’s waistcoat, shirt, and trousers. He whisks each piece away once it’s free of Link’s body until the boy stands bare, minus his socks.

Sidon does take a moment at that point to drag warm, gentle hands over Link’s skin. It’s chilly in the shop thanks to the rain. But Sidon’s warmth all along his back prevents him from shivering. His closeness, however, is entirely the cause of Link’s skin shivering. It tightens further under fingers that pet over his collarbones, across the blades of his shoulders. Pressure above Link’s left shoulder precedes lips planting light kisses over freckles. Sidon lingers for only a moment, humming against his skin, before he steps away. Sidon is then a warm, heavy presence behind Link when hands cup his waist and squeeze a little.

“Arms up, Link. Keep them there until I say otherwise.”

Link is mindful of Sidon’s body while doing so. He wouldn't want to accidentally smack his hands into Sidon’s arms or face. Sidon’s warmth disappears from Link’s back long enough for his lord to snatch something off the table against the wall. Sidon had stood in front of it when Link slipped through the black curtain. Whatever he wraps around Link’s torso must have been lying on it. The fabric itself is cool when Sidon’s hands pin it to him. It could be silk, but without seeing it, Link isn't sure. It feels like Sidon’s pillowcases and the length of scrap silk Sidon likes to use to bind his wrists. Link just isn't used to the slippery material covering his belly and diaphragm. The garment spans from below his flat breasts down to his hips. Once Sidon has it the way he wants it, he speaks up again.

“Perfect. Keep your arms tight to your body so I can lace this up. You'll let it fall right to the floor if you're not careful.”

“Yes, my Lord,” Link whispers.

The tailor’s words bubble to the surface of Link’s thoughts. He remembers to take a deep breath as Sidon fiddles with threading the opening of whatever contraption he's bought. Link suspects a corset, only… the way it sits so low on his chest makes him unsure. He's only seen women in corsets, and the garment covers anything obscene. This one hugs him too low on his body. The flat plane of his chest and his nipples are free for anyone to see. Whereas the lewd photos Sidon shows him sometimes, the women’s chests are fully covered. It’s chilly in this back room with so much of his skin on display. But regardless, Sidon probably won't take too long lacing him up.

So after a deep breath, Link forces his stomach out as much as he can. That deep breath relaxes his shoulders and helps him align his spine. It won't be easy to do either of those things once he's cinched into this… thing. Sidon hums behind him while yanking and righting the laces. Each puff of his breaths tickles the delicate skin of Link’s neck or shoulder. Once the laces are tight, Sidon bends down in order to make sure the bottom of the corset is straight and even. He again cups Link’s waist once he ties the laces in a bow at the bottom. Link gives a test inhale and finds it difficult, but not impossible like in the dress.

“Let’s walk this way, my boy,” Sidon murmurs to the tip of his ear. “Keep your eyes closed.”

Sidon guides him with hands on Link’s narrowed waist. It hurts to move, especially if they would need to go far. Link tries to keep his breaths even and calm. Hyperventilating in this thing will send him to the floor. And they're not safe like in Sidon’s study. Link would cause a scene, and if there's anything Sidon hates, it's drawings unflattering attention to himself. Link shuffles along under Sidon’s hands, desperate to prevent that exact thing.

The purpose of this trip is to sort of apologize to Link. The last thing Link wants is to make Sidon even more upset. So Link follows the push and pull of Sidon’s hands as he guides them up the two steps of the platform. Sidon positions Link exactly how he wants in front of the mirrors. They stand still together for a few seconds, probably to allow Sidon the opportunity to just looks at him and nothing else.

“You don’t know how beautiful you are, my love,” he breathes into Link’s hair. His hands linger at Link’s waist, squeezing and petting him every so often. “Open your eyes now.”

The shimmer of the fabric confirms that it’s silk. Link flattening his palms on his cinched belly proves it further still. Most of the corset is such a deep blue that Link almost thinks it’s black at first. It’s only when light hits the silk just so that the blue gives itself away. All the hems are done in silver thread, standing out starkly from the inky blue. The Zora family crest appears as abstract embroidery along the bottom and top of the corset. The embroidery is meant to look like vines, but some of the tendrils curl off to form the three sapphires of the crest. The blue silk naturally fills in where the sapphires would be. If Link weren’t the one tied into the damn thing, he would think it a work of art meant to be seen, not worn. Instead, he finds it breathtaking in the most real, painful sort of way. Unable to look at his nakedness or the corset any longer, Link meets glimmering, gold eyes that watch him in the mirror.

“Absolutely stunning,” Sidon breathes again in that wistful sort of way. “The dress he made for you is a gorgeous piece, no one can say otherwise. But this…” Sidon runs his hands up and down Link’s sides and swallows his shiver like a starving man. “You wearing it bestows even more beauty onto the piece. This was made totally and absolutely for you, my boy. No one else could hope to do it justice.”

Link gulps hard and sways a bit on his feet. It’s always chilly in the tailor’s workshop, but he can’t stop sweating.

“M-my Lord, I feel ill,” he confesses. It kills him to do so, to watch some of the joy snuff out in Sidon’s eyes. “May I sit or… or lean on you? My head is spinning.”

“Of course, of course,” Sidon says between quick kissing to his shoulder.

Just like before with Link’s eyes closed, Sidon guides them back to the table where Link’s clothes lie waiting. Link thinks to reach for them, to redress once Sidon releases him from the corset. However, Sidon coaxes him around on weak ankles until Link faces him. Next, those strong hands get him about the hips and lift him up. Link sits with his back painfully straight, straighter than he’s used to. He slouches; he can admit that. But the corset allows for no other position. And once Sidon steps between his knees, knocking them farther apart, Link truly has no other option. His hands shake as he grips Sidon’s shoulders. The room dives and twists if Link doesn’t focus on it, so he closes his eyes rather than risk illness.

“Shhh, I’ve got you, sweet boy,” Sidon murmurs to him, pulling Link to his chest. “Breathe with me. You’re all right. It… takes some getting used to. I’ll have to arrange you to wear this even while Hestia is home. I’d like you to grow accustomed to wearing a corset, and by then, these little dizzy spells of yours will be a thing of the past.”

With a cheek smashed into his lord’s chest, Link gasps, “Must… must it be so tight, my Lord? I can’t catch my breath.”

Sidon pets the back of Link’s head, just above the beginning of his ponytail, and scolds, “Hush, now. I brought you here to show you my love, that I’m not angry with you over our quarrel this morning. You would wound me with such objections. It is tied perfectly, the exact way it should be. It’s just something you will have to adapt to.” Sidon’s hand pauses in his hair mid-stroke. “Unless… you don’t want it?”

“N-no, no, please.” Link shakes his head against Sidon’s chest. “I-I do, I want it. It’s beautiful, more than I deserve. I’m sorry, my Lord, it’s just… difficult for me. A trial, but I will overcome it.”

“A trial of love,” Sidon adds with a sigh. “You’ll weather through it for me, won’t you?”

Sidon’s fingers tighten in his hair, at his hip. Link’s voice clams up tightly in his throat. It leaves him nothing but a nod to respond to Sidon’s question.

Humid breath tickles one of Link’s ears before Sidon murmurs deeply, “I knew you would. You’re so good to me, Link, such a proper, good boy.”

The hands on him urge him back and off of Sidon’s chest. The energy in them continues with that path back, back, and farther back until Link is flat on the table. The motion winds him, and he struggles to remain calm. He needs to breathe, and shivering with Sidon between his legs, wondering what’s in his lord’s head, isn’t helping. Link’s spine protests when he arches into Sidon’s hands on him. His Lord pins him back to the table with one hand in the center of his chest. The other slips down to tug at the buttons of his trousers, yanking a few open to make room for his cock. Link cranes his head up to see it, but even that hurts. He wonders why Sidon thinks they have time for this when he’d shown such haste in undressing Link minutes ago. Warm breath and muffled groans buzz in the crook of Link’s neck as Sidon strokes himself.

Over the dull roar in his ears, Link thinks he hears Sidon pant his name and some other words of love. They break like waves in his ears and never reach him. Link winces at the rub of the wood under him as Sidon drags him down the table. The V of their bodies is tight together, now, and Sidon spreads his fingers wide to hold both of them. A shock spears through Link, and he has to bite the inside of his cheek to keep quiet. The lack of air because of the corset disconnects him from his body.

Sidon’s hand on him is a distant sensation—as if he watches Sidon stroke someone and yet feels the phantom glide of his hand, too. Link manages to find one of his hands despite the disconnect and flattens it under him. He sits up enough to stare down at Sidon’s head, see the wiggle of his braid back and forth on his back as Sidon kisses and bites across his chest. It’s all his lord can get at with the corset covering everything else. Link blinks a few times and lifts his head to stare at the black curtain concealing them.

And the narrowed, green eyes watching them.

Heart stopping and restarting just as quickly, Link jumps under Sidon’s hands. He’s yet to see such a dark thundercloud over Ganon’s brow. The man scowls at them through the gap he makes in the curtain with his hand. Link startles again, still staring at Ganon, when Sidon releases their cocks and slips down his body. Sidon’s quiet groans muffle further as he mouths at Link’s flaccid prick and then swallows him to the root.

Shoulders hunching, Link bites himself viciously at the heat and pressure around him. He… he should stop this. Sidon is unaware of their audience and would never do this if he knew. Link sinks a trembling hand into Sidon’s hair to try and warn his lord. But Sidon just moans loudly around him and bobs his head faster, sucks harder. Link tosses a terrified, desperate glance Ganon’s way. He doesn’t want Ganon to see this. He’d never intended Ganon to witness something he so obviously despises. Sidon chases him quickly towards an orgasm he hadn’t thought possible, and Link is helpless to stop it. His watery gaze travels down Ganon’s smart, perfectly tailored clothes. He doesn’t expect the bulge he finds between Ganon’s legs. Just the sight of it—wrong, he must be wrong, it’s a trick of the light!—adds an extra surge to Link’s blood, and he spills in Sidon’s mouth with a bitten-back shout.

The wood of the table isn’t kind to the back of Link’s head. But lying flat like this is the only way he manages to breathe through his orgasm and not pass out. Sidon keeps his hips still with a bruising grip on them. Link needs that grounding factor right now. Even with his eyes shut, he cannot erase the sight of Ganon glaring up a storm at them. And yet… something about the sight of them had aroused him, too. Link is sure he’d been mistaken. His frantic mind, losing oxygen, had concocted such a vision. It can’t be real.

And when Link finds the strength to pick his head up from the table, he finds them alone. The curtain is still and undisturbed. Ganon… must have been a figment of his imagination. He’d never stood there, watching them. Surely, if the Gerudo had happened upon such a horror, he would have called out to stop it. If only to humiliate Sidon and gain leverage over him in their business dealings. But no, the phantom image of him had stood there, stony and silent, watching the debauchery. Link continues to struggle for breath and sense when Sidon stands up. His Lord hovers over him, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

“I’m sorry,” whispers from between his red lips. “I hope I didn’t hurt you, my love. I just… needed you so terribly just now… Link?”

Link rips his gaze from the black curtain and angles a shaky smile up at Sidon.

“You would never hurt me, my Lord. But um… please, may I take this off, now? I feel even worse after all this. I’m tired and an awful pain persists behind my eyes.”

The squeezing pressure of the corset ignites a headache in his temples. It’d broke on the surface of his brain like a tidal wave the moment Sidon wrenched an orgasm out of him. Link blames the vision of Ganon watching them partially on the headache, too. Yes, it’d been the lack of air and the headache. Ganon waits for them back at the tavern, kept there by the rain and Link’s promise of a swift return. Even if he'd made his way here, how could he convince the tailor to allow him back here? The old man probably entertains the perverse desires of other customers like them, but… Link can't work out how Ganon could have ended up back here, watching them through a gap in the curtain.

On his back, Link shudders at the image burned into his head. He’s spent nearly a week with Ganon, constantly in his presence. He’d admitted upon meeting the man that he is handsome in an annoying sort of way. But to even imagine—because he did not actually see Ganon, it’d been a trick of the light—Ganon watching them, furious at the sight but also aroused…

“Link? You’re shivering, my love, are you all right?”

Link just shivers harder and whispers, “Please, my clothes… I want to put my clothes back on.”

Sidon scoops him off the table and kisses his temple.

“Of course, of course, come here. I’ll get you out of this, and we’ll go home.”

“We must… collect Master Ganon,” Link reminds him, fingers twisted in Sidon’s sleeve.

Sidon sighs in his hair.

“Must we? Surely he’ll survive on his own.”

Link leans against Sidon’s chest despite the way the corset pinches him and scolds, “My Lord, he is our guest. We can’t leave him in the village.”

“I suppose…”

One of Sidon’s hands sinks into his hair to comb through the ponytail and then rub his scalp.

“My sweet, I must confess to the source of my temper this morning. Ganon can be… well, such a rude, overbearing man. His attitude has got the best of me the past few days, and I’ve turned that sword on you, I’m afraid. Please know that I love you with all my heart, that I didn’t mean what I said this morning. I just…” Sidon’s hand tightens in his hair. “I expected to spend this month with you by my side, finally dotting on you how I always want to. But I cannot risk Ganon’s displeasure while we’re negotiating business. You are the only person in my arsenal who can distract Ganon from his annoyance of traveling here, of staying here. I trust you above all others. I… do hope you’re not upset at spending so much time with him. I promise I’ll make it up to you.”

Link wheezes a bit while trying to speak, and Sidon finally pulls him off the table. He takes less time and flourish in loosening the corset than tying it up. In the blink of an eye, Link’s belly has the room it needs to suck in air and clear his head. The ache behind his eyes will linger, but at least his head will stop spinning, now.

“Thank you,” Link gasps after a few breaths. “I am unused to this, my Lord. Please have patience with me in the future.”

Sidon tips his head up to catch his lips in a soft kiss.

“Anything for you, my boy,” he murmurs, the sides of their noses brushing together. “Anything.”

Ganon is stony and his temper simmers when they rejoin him at the tavern. He does not avoid Link’s eyes, but iron rests burning in those emerald eyes. Link is the one to drop their stare and shy away from Ganon. He’s sure Ganon hadn’t actually been there! Then again, what could he and Sidon have possibly gotten up to in the tailor’s for damn near twenty minutes? Ganon knows Sidon’s predilections well. Maybe it is obvious to the Gerudo what had transpired between master and page while they were missing.

Ganon will not judge him for it. Link already knows that, had already gone over such a discussion when Ganon confronted him about Sidon’s… ways with him. Familiar with such knowledge, Link blames them leaving Ganon for so long as the source of his ire. Link sucks down humid, rain-chilled air and allows it to wash over his shame. He is due to be alone with Ganon soon enough. Surely the truth will come out then. Ganon is not the type to withhold the truth for anyone’s comfort—especially Link’s. The truth will come out.

The carriage ride passes in uncomfortable silence. Sidon is tight-lipped over joining Ganon again, Ganon’s annoyance is a mystery, and Link fights the post-orgasm shame swirling inside him. It’s far easier at night, when Sidon has him in a moment of violent passion and then falls asleep at his side. That way, Link just sleeps through the fall of hormones and the reawakening of his shame. But now, he must stew in it, and that misery feeds off the churning tension around him.

If Ganon were not here, Sidon would not be so tense. If there were lingering upset between him and his lord, Link could easily reach for the man’s hand in their solitude and touch him. Sidon would allow such a thing, so long as no eyes were upon them. But… Link is glad that Ganon is here. That trip to the tailor’s could have lasted an hour or longer. Sidon clearly loves the corset, loves Link in it. Such a ravenous obsession has the potential to hold his lord’s attention for hours and hours. Link knows his lungs would give out. Ganon’s words from this morning, about cruelty and drowning, come rushing back to Link. His shame takes a sour note, and he avoids looking at both men even after they arrive back at the manor.

Link’s feet barely hit the dirt of the drive in front of the manor before Ganon barks at him, “Fetch a book from the library, boy, I need something to put me to sleep. Lest I reach for a gun and an ounce of lead.”

He mutters the last part, but it sparks Link into action. Link’s shame takes a backseat while urgency carries him up the stairs and through the manor. He skitters to Sidon’s study to leave the box containing the corset on Sidon’s desk. He meets Sidon in the hallway, and Sidon tries to stop him with a smile and a raised hand. But Link ducks under his lord’s hand and speed walks away. He will deal with Sidon’s displeasure over such a brazen dismissal later.

He doesn’t actually think Ganon would shoot himself. Although… such a thing would cause trouble and a significant mess for Sidon. It would annoy him at a minimum, something Ganon enjoys. Link bursts into the library with renewed haste and snatches a familiar title from the shelves. His family had been poor, but not so poor that Mother hadn’t taught him how to read and write. He may stutter a bit over the words, not one to read for leisure, but he will do as Ganon asks. He finds the man already in repose, stripped down to a different pair of trousers and his shirt already unbuttoned. He scowls with a damp cloth over his eyes. Another headache, it seems.

“I’m here,” Link says softly. He waits for a grunt from Ganon to close the door and sit in a chair nearby. “Shall I fetch anything for you before I begin?”

“Read,” he bites out.

Link sits at Ganon’s bedside and begins the curious tale of a researcher traveling the world with his two sons and their handyman. The story is written in the form of journal entries from the sons, and Link finds himself enjoying their hijinks more than he thought he would. The stories may be a bit below Ganon… Link would read this to himself or anyone younger than him. But the Gerudo hadn’t specified what book to bring. And Link has started and stopped reading this novel many times, unable to find spare time to indulge like this.

Any time he could use like loose change he spends in the garden, lying amongst the flowers and grass. Such a thing relaxes him and helps distract from the tensions that constantly swirl around him in the manor. Either he catches Hestia’s thin looks aimed his way when Sidon is around them, or he catches Sidon’s heated stares when it’s been too long. Perhaps that’s why Link enjoys Ganon’s company so much. Staying within Ganon’s orbit is like lying in the garden—soothing and freeing. When Link looks up, choked with this revelation, he finds Ganon softly snoring, out like a light.

Smiling softly, Link sets the book aside on the nightstand. He’ll return it to the library later, or maybe not, since he’d like to finish it. Before he takes a single step away from the bed, Ganon shifts and lifts the edge of the washcloth draped over his eyes. Link freezes with his fingers still touching the cover of the book. He’s never lingered here in the evening long enough to actually see Ganon sleep, so he’s unsure how sensitive the Gerudo is to movement or sound. Apparently, Ganon must lean towards the light-sleeper side, since his snoring had been pretty convincing to Link. Sidon only does that when he’s ill or if the humidity of the day persists into the night. A little nudge to Sidon’s shoulder usually stirs him enough to end that. But now, without Link reading or Ganon snoring, the room is painfully quiet. Link jumps when Ganon’s low voice breaks that silence.

“You don’t have to leave. You don’t have to go back to him.”

Heart skipping a beat, Link slowly sinks back to the chair. He’s never heard Ganon’s voice so soft and caring before, not even the first day they’d met. His questions and explanations had still carried a note of harshness to them. But now… all of that evaporates and leaves only this tender worry behind.

Playing with his fingers, Link stares at the bedspread and says, “It’s not all bad. Please remember that I do care for my Lord. He is not unkind to me.”

“I don’t know how you gasping for breath and nearly collapsing can be taken as ‘not unkind,’” Ganon points out. “Was that his first time tying a corset?”

Link’s stomach lurches at those words. His nails sting where they bite into the tender undersides of his fingers. The whole ride back to the manor, Link had convinced himself that Ganon wasn’t real. That he’d imagined Ganon’s form grimacing at the curtain, painfully hard but also upset. Link wiggles in the chair and darts a glance up to Ganon through blond bangs. No sneer of disgust or upset mars his face, now. Ganon is not one for pity, but the softness at the corners of his mouth suggests sympathy. It’s almost too much.

“You… saw,” Link breathes after a stretch of silence.

“Yes.”

“How… How long…?”

Ganon clutches the washcloth in his hand and shoves himself into a sitting position with the other.

“He was already upon you when I peeked beyond the curtain. I heard you panting and struggling and thought to…”

Link watches through his bangs, eyes hot with shame, as Ganon presses his lips together and looks away. So Ganon had meant to protect him. What a futile effort that is. Link assumes Ganon had made no such attempts with Rusty or any of the other ill-fated boys Sidon twirled around his finger. So why him? Besides that, exactly how had Ganon found himself in the back room? That remains a mystery, and now that Link knows the truth… What does it matter? He'd seen, and there's nothing Link can do about it. Ganon’s concern for his well-being still touches his heart regardless of his embarrassment or shame. Such a courtesy is due words of thanks, even if Link thinks Ganon won't appreciate them. Link scoops some hair behind his ear and finally lifts his head.

“Thank you for caring about me.”

Ganon’s head whips around, eyes narrowed but void of the anger he means to project.

“I care about you as much as I do the dirt under my boots, boy.”

Ah, but he’s ruined it, now. Link knows better, has known better for days. Ganon’s visage of harshness had broken that first day when he asked if Sidon hurts him. They had barely stepped beyond the moniker of strangers when Link recognized the softness that is concern on Ganon’s stern face. And even now, as Ganon bares his teeth, Link knows it’s all for show. Link bites back the fond smile that wants to pull his lips. To smile at Ganon now would only fuel the flames of his empty ire.

“I understand, Master Ganon. I am… sorry that you had to see that. I promise you, though, that my Lord made no harsh move or word towards me. He meant to repent at that moment in the only way he knows how. The tightness of the…”—Link’s voice gives out a bit—“the corset is nothing. He will get better at tying it, as he does all things.”

Ganon’s stern face relaxes, but only just.

“Why do you tolerate such foolishness? He would be the laughing stock of his peers if they knew what he gets up to. And no one in Hyrule would take you into their service if they knew about what you get up to.” He sits up taller, and somehow Link feels like Ganon is looking down on him. “Don’t you understand? If anyone caught wind of this, Sidon would throw you to the wolves. He’s done as much to Hestia without allowing those wolves to slaughter her. What makes you think you’re safe?”

“What choice do I have?” Link blurts out, louder than he intends.

Ganon actually pauses with his lips parted, ready for more harsh words. He stares at Link, eyes wide and waiting.

Sitting back in the chair, Link repeats, “What choice do I have? I cannot just leave my Lord’s service. And… I don’t want to. His desires are… peculiar—”

Ganon snorts at that, but says nothing.

“But… He cares for me and treats me well. Mostly. It could always be worse.”

Humming, Ganon reclines against the headboard and watches Link through hooded eyes.

“Remember those words,” he murmurs, “the first time he strikes you. The first time you look upon him and know fear like you’ve never known it before. Come to me and say those words again and feel how hollow they are.”

Link scrambles for an objection, for any words of defense for his lord. But… none rise from his lips. No words even come close. Ganon has claimed all along that Sidon is a creature of habit, one of harshness towards delicate, innocent things like him. And today, Link had felt the lurch of fear in his gut when Sidon yelled at him. That’d never happened before. Part of Link jumps to defend Sidon’s honor and points out that he’s never seen Sidon under so much stress. This morning had been a one-time thing, Link is sure. The only time he’s ever seen Sidon get a bit heated under the collar is when he can’t find a place to send Hestia. This recent time, in fact, Link had to witness Sidon turn short on everyone until the exact moment he bid Hestia safe travels and closed the carriage door on her. Link excuses that—and this morning—as Sidon’s typical reaction to stress. It’s nothing.

“Perhaps I will,” Link mumbles long after Ganon stops speaking.

His emerald eyes crack open to regard Link. He waits silent and still for Link to meet his gaze. Ganon usually snorts or smirks at such back talk from Link. But tension thickens the air between them. Why must Ganon assume Sidon hurting him is an inevitably? No joke fills Ganon’s silence or the way he watches Link at the edge of the bed. Link had spoken only in jest, to lighten the mood. Well, he’d said that to not allow Ganon the last word in their conversation, too, but that’s beside the point.

Usually, a bit of fighting back lightens the mood between them. And yet Link’s words fade from the room to leave them in stuffy silence. Link plays with his fingers in his lap and considers leaving. Ganon had asked him not to, but the tension between them hurts his stomach. It’s never difficult to be in Ganon’s company, to hear his harsh words and just internally smile at them. Right now… Link feels like that first day, like he’s at square one with Ganon all over again.

Green eyes slipping shut, Ganon murmurs, “Stay or go, the choice is yours. You needn’t subject yourself to his madness while I am here. He is unlikely to take you away from me again. And I can’t bogart your attention at night, so he’ll have you then. Do whatever pleases you.”

Link glances at the window seat, how the sun in the west bathes it in gentle light. Supper will be in an hour or so. Link wonders if perhaps he can find something other than pork for Ganon.

“It would please me to stay,” he admits. “If you’re tired, might I take the window seat and…”

“Sleep if you want. It doesn’t matter to me.”

Some of the tension vanishes, the how and why a mystery to Link, but he nods at Ganon’s offer.

“I… I will. I, um, will wake for supper and bring it up when the time is right. Would you like wine tonight?”

“Wine will do,” he murmurs with the cloth restored over his eyes. “Something red. Preferably from Kakariko.”

Link returns the chair to the table near the windows and then takes the seat offered to him. A lone, stiff pillow lies in the corner of the window seat. Link fusses with it to make it softer. There’s nothing to be done about it, though. So, Link uses it to fill the gap the small of his back makes against the wall. Shoes left on the floor, Link curls his legs up on the rest of the seat. His side will hurt curled up like this, but he turns towards the windows anyway to lie on his right hip.

The sun filtering through the trees brings just enough warmth to his face to make him smile. It’s too bright even with his eyes closed, but a quick shake of his head casts his bangs over his brow. It gives him just enough shade that maybe he’ll doze off. He’s certainly tired enough after all Sidon has done to him today. Just as Link shuffles his shoulders to settle in, Ganon’s quiet voice behind him staves off sleep.

“If you’re ever frightened… If he goes too far… You can come here like you did this morning. You’re safe with me.”

Link’s heart trips under his ribs, and he can’t stop himself from glancing over his shoulder. Ganon hasn’t moved since placing the cloth back over his eyes. His hands rest on his chest, fingers laced. The hair on his arms comes all the way down to the backs of his palms, only stopping above thick knuckles and even thicker fingers. His nails are cut all the way to the quick, some cuticles ragged where he’d clearly picked at them.

Link shivers hard and tears his eyes away from those hands. He stares at Ganon’s face, waiting for the man to lift the cloth and catch him staring. Ganon still teases him about that. But a week on, he doesn’t often catch Link anymore. Link still stares. Sucking down a stuttering breath, Link turns back to the window and closes his eyes. He waits a spell, waits until Ganon’s breaths turn a bit choked, like he’s about to snore.

“Thank you.”


	6. Shattered

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The corset makes a reappearance. And Link learns a valuable lesson about proper and improper breathplay etiquette. Mostly improper. Sidlink sex ahoy (the last of it). Make sure to let me know in the comments how much this chapter breaks your heart, breaks it some more, and then glues it back together. This chapter is an 11,000 word collar coaster. I wanna hear you scream.

Link wakes later to the window of the glass chilling his cheek. The sun has slipped beneath the horizon enough to where only a bit of red and purple remains in the west. Stars come out in the east, and the moon is already high in the sky. He jumps a little, worry instantly sinking his stomach that he’s overslept. However, Ganon snores softly in bed. And scents of supper wander up from the kitchen below. His body must have forced him awake, knowing he’d been about to shirk his duties. Link lights one of the gas lamps in the wall before tiptoeing out of the room. He leaves the door open to make carrying dinner up easier. He won’t have to fuss with the door. When he reaches the end of the wing and makes to turn left to fly down the steps, he meets Sidon wandering in the same direction.

“There you are,” he says with a smile. He holds his hands out, and Link takes them in his. “Fetching dinner for our guest? I won’t delay you, then. I hoped I would catch you at some point before turning in for the night.”

Sidon lifts one of Link’s hands to his lips to kiss the knuckles. Hestia isn’t here. He’s free to dote on Link outside the study, outside the bedroom.

“You’ll come to me tonight, won’t you?” He asks, lips tickling across Link’s knuckles. He stares down the line of Link’s arm while adding, “I want to see you in the corset again. Today at the tailor’s wasn’t enough.”

A shiver gallops up Link’s spine, and he gently tugs his hand from Sidon’s grip. Ganon’s words from earlier, that Sidon would have him tonight, ring between his ears.

“I must hurry. I don’t want Master Ganon to wake up and find me gone.”

He turns to run down the stairs.

“Link!”

Sidon’s voice nearly trips him, but Link smacks a hand onto the banister and saves himself an embarrassing tumble down. He twists at the waist to give his lord his full attention.

Staring down his nose at Link, Sidon says, “Tonight.”

That one word holds such promise, such potential. Link shivers while gripping the banister with white knuckles and nods at his lord. He doesn’t dare try to leave again until Sidon gives him permission. Sidon returns his nod after a moment of staring Link up and down. Link doesn’t look back as he flees down the rest of the stairs. His stomach bubbles inside with anticipation. It’s half excited, half terrified. Those two emotions usually tango like that when Sidon makes it obvious Link is on his menu for the evening. A nightcap, if you will. Sidon will sip and nibble on all Link offers him before turning in for the night. Link hopes they both fall asleep quickly and put this rocky day behind them. Thoughts of tonight carry Link all the way to the kitchen, and only the crash of a silver tray in front of him startles him out of them.

Link nods and smiles at the conversation volleyed around him between kitchen servants. They work well together, never missing a step in their tasks or the talk flying through the air. Link isn't close to anyone else like this. His favor with Sidon—if anyone could call it that—makes him perhaps the least popular person in the manor. Right below Sidon, maybe. Link sighs with his hands full as a cook waves him away with a little scowl on their face. This isn't the kind one who'd helped him that first day. That one only works during the morning. The evening crew has an edge to them, and they like to hone that edge on Link’s thick skin.

Well, now it's thick. Things hadn't always been that way, and Link can't think of another group who'd helped him toughen up more than the kitchen workers. Them and Hestia. He could never do anything right by her from the moment he'd appeared before them, washed and dressed in new clothes the first day here. Still, Link understands the animosity aimed at his back. Compared to all of them, he knows he has it easy. His tasks are directly for Sidon, and Sidon cares for him enough to not ask anything difficult or disgusting of him. Well, he doesn't consider submitting difficult or disgusting…

Link swallows hard at that thought and taps the side of his shoe against the wood jam of Ganon’s door. He smiles in the light of the hallways at Ganon’s little flinch on the bed. He'd probably slept straight through Link leaving to fetch supper. He hadn't made a sound or movement when Link left. Then again, perhaps he’d felt some semblance of safety with Link and didn’t need to peek to see who was walking near his sleeping body. Link shrugs it all away and steps into room, lit only by the hallway and the lamp he'd fired up before leaving. By the time Link turns around, Ganon sits with his feet flat on the floor.

He spares Link a glance, maybe checking to see if something had happened to him during their time apart. Link holds his nerves about tonight close to his hear, though. If Ganon finds a hint of those nerves, he says nothing about them and then stands. He cracks the window and fishes out his cigarette case from his back pocket. Link gives Ganon his back and continues setting the little table for him. When the hiss of a match strike reaches Link’s ears, Link speaks without looking at him.

“Master Ganon, there’s no smoking allowed inside the manor.”

Smoke blows out of Ganon’s lips with a whisper.

“Go run to your master and tattle on me, then.”

Link snorts at that and turns to make his rebuttal. Ganon’s eyes already wait for him. The glow from the moonlight raining down on them cuts his face harshly. Link only sees the side facing him. A glimmer in Ganon’s green eye captures all of Link’s attention and holds to it fast. Ganon stands there silently, still in the clothes he'd fallen asleep. If Link could peel his gaze away from Ganon’s face, he'd find Ganon’s sleeves rolled up to his elbows and red chest hair fluffing up from his open shirt. He’d worked his hair free at some point during their nap, and the thick ringlets drape over his shoulders and down his back.

Instead, his focus narrows to the gap in Ganon’s lips as he gently holds the cigarette between them. Smoke swirls and floats up from the glowing end of the stick, brightens when Ganon seals his mouth around the filter to inhale. Link shivers at the table as the cracked-open window welcomes in a breeze. That weak gust blows smoke over to him, and Link can't worry about the scent lingering in the drapes or the rugs. He's too caught up in watching Ganon watch him. He jumps lightly on his feet when Ganon turns a little and crooks a finger at him.

Voice failing him, Link steps forward rather than say anything. The words would be meaningless pleasantries anyway. He comes willingly into Ganon’s personal space and stands still as the man blows smoke towards the open window. Link almost opens his mouth to thank Ganon for not blowing it in his face this time, but a heavy hand offering the cigarette to him stops him. Ganon pinches the filter between his thumb and index finger, leaving just enough for Link’s lips. They'd done this song and dance this morning, too.

What does Ganon offering him this mean? Does Ganon think him stressed or upset again? High strung. That's what Ganon had called him. Perhaps Ganon sees something in him that Link misses. Regardless, it would be rude to deny Ganon’s offer. Link leans forward and cocks his head in order to meet the filter of the cigarette. The paper crackles like Ganon had said it would as Link sucks. He holds the smoke in his mouth like last time and blows it all out when he thinks he should. Ganon towers above him, casting him into shadow while watching him. Link stares at his chest rather than meet his eyes.

“How long will you stay with me tonight?”

Link swallows a few times to chase away the tingling remains of smoke in his mouth. Even then, his voice is fragile.

“How… However long you need me,” he says without commitment.

Ganon hums just before taking a drag off his cigarette. He sucks in air through his teeth and blows the smoke over Link’s head. Some still curls around Link’s hair, and he hopes Sidon doesn't mind the smell of Ganon’s tobacco later. Inspecting the remains of his cigarette, Ganon purses his lips and then glances at Link through the smoke.

“And what if I needed you all night?”

The suggestion would be funny any other night. Ganon often pokes fun at him and jokes with him in that dry way of his. But no joking tone soaks Ganon’s words right now.

Smile nervous and ready to drop at any second, Link says, “I don’t think that would be wise.”

“Oh no?” Ganon leans towards the window to flick the remains of his cigarette outside. He leaves the window cracked and drawls, “And why is that?”

“Please, I mean no offense. I appreciate what you’re doing but…” Link bows his head and stares at their feet. “When you leave… everything will go back to the way it was. If I take you up on such kindness, I will miss it when you leave. I mustn’t become accustomed to that.”

Ganon’s feet shuffle closer.

“He is in low spirits, isn’t he?”

Link picks his head up to meet Ganon’s eyes. That had been less of a curious question, more of a confirming sort of statement.

“Yes. You would call me high strung. What would you call him?”

“A maniac,” Ganon bites out.

Link offers a single, humorless bubble of laughter.

“Perhaps you’re right. But… I suspect once your business is done here and you’ve gone that he’ll be right as rain. However… I don’t…”

‘I don’t want you to go,’ is left unsaid. The idea of those words strung together in that order surprises Link. He… He will genuinely miss Ganon once he’s gone. Sidon’s other business partners treat him as a highly intelligent dog—one that is capable of fetching and understanding commands, but not one who thinks or feels. None of them ever interact or show such investment in Link as Ganon does. Link wishes he could convince himself to admit all this to Ganon. But what good would it do either of them? Ganon won’t want his sentiment. And Ganon brushing him off might actually hurt. So Link swallows those words and buries them. Judging by Ganon’s deep, thoughtful stare, though, maybe he’d heard them anyway.

Ganon huffs, turns away, and snatches out another cigarette.

“Eat whatever supper you brought up for me. I’m not hungry.”

The swift change in topic knocks Link’s confidence down a peg or two, almost to its knees. Ganon turns his back to Link, cutting off and refusing any response Link would make. Ganon shutting him down blows a chilly wind through him, anyway. Words elude Link even if he could force his voice to work. Ganon lifts an arm and leans on the wall while smoking towards the open window. Foolishly, Link mimics him and raises a hand to touch him. They’re close enough that Link would only have to take a step forward.

With those blunt words, though, Link feels as though he’d have to walk a mile to reach Ganon. Had his words upset Ganon? Could Ganon hear the sentiment in them anyway? Link bites his lower lip while dropping his hand to his side. He does as Ganon tells him to and glances up every so often to stare at Ganon’s rigid back. He wishes Ganon would turn around, but he stays at the window long after supper. The clock in the hallway strikes 10 at night before Ganon makes a move or sound.

“Go,” he orders. “I can’t delay your suffering tonight any longer. Go to him and find whatever peace you can while you’re there.”

Link stands and tosses the cloth napkin out of his lap. He has stewed for hours now, blaming himself for Ganon’s upset. The man hasn't spoken a word in hours and now only does so to dismiss him? And then insults his lord on top of that?

“Why must you call it that? ‘Suffering?’ I do not suffer in the company of my Lord! He is kind to me and cares for me. It is not suffering.”

Ganon snarls at him and growls, “It’s disgusting. A grown man fawning over a boy. Regardless of your perception, erroneous as it is, it’s vile.”

Temper flying off its hinges, now, Link stomps up to Ganon’s barrel chest and shouts up at him, “His desires are unorthodox, but he has never hurt me! I would have nothing without him, be dead rotting in the streets without him!”

Ganon’s snarl shrinks into a sneer at this close range.

“Oh, well, then you can just rot”—he shoves a finger in the middle of Link’s chest, and the page stumbles back a step—“in this hellish manor, then, and you can have everything you’ve ever wanted!” He bends a bit to put his face level with Link’s, red in his pale cheeks with shame. “For truly, what is the price paid with your ass and mouth for a little bit of love, hmm?”

Breathing hard to stop tears or a whine of anguish, Link bites out, “You hateful man. You… you…!”

“I did warn you, foolish child.” Ganon rises back to his full height and flicks a hand to the door. “Go on, little boy. Run to your master and lick his boots or whatever he has planned tonight. Try not to asphyxiate in that corset of yours. He’d have a difficult time explaining that to the Lady upon her return.”

Ears filled with a deafening roar, Link flees the room without hearing another word. The bedroom door bangs into the wall when Link rips it open. He’s just thankful it’d been closed at all. No one had heard that ruthless exchange. The room grows too stuffy for Ganon most of the time, and he leaves it open to coax a breeze through the window. None of that matters, now, as Link bolts down the hall with blurry, misty eyes. He nearly trips on the red rug stretching down the length of the wing. He catches himself on the next step and wobbles on a few strides. Frantic and panting with an edge of his voice caught in each breath, Link almost slams into Sidon’s study door when he finally reaches it. Link’s hand freezes already curled around the doorknob when a thought breaks through his sadness.

If Sidon sees him like this… he will question Link, and Link will be unable to lie. He’s terrible at it, but especially with Sidon. Sidon reads all his tells, plus there’s no benefit in lying to Sidon. Only punishment. Link removes his hand from the doorknob and scuttles out from the middle of the hall. His breaths wheeze out of him long and staggered at first. His diaphragm jumps inside him with so much pent up emotion. Ganon has never spoken so harshly to him. Link wants to break the argument down, find out where all that animosity had come from. But it’s too much for him right now. He will bundle the past few minutes, store it, and sort it at a later date. For now, he must change roles and appear perfectly at peace. He’d defended his lord’s honor at the top of his lungs moments ago. Sidon is kind and does treat him well. He will do so tonight while they fall into each other.

Sidon’s face is charming and handsome as always when Link enters his study. And Link makes sure that his face is pretty and free of tear streaks. No trace of his hysterics remains. He’s wiped it from his mind for now.

“I’m free of any duties for the rest of the night, my Lord,” Link says with his head tipped back, meeting Sidon’s eyes as the man towers over him. “If memory serves me, you requested my presence tonight?”

“Your memory is impeccable,” Sidon purrs down at him before kissing his forehead. “Let us retire for the night, my love. I’ve waited all day to have you in my arms, in our bed. Come.”

The door to the marital suite barely closes and locks before Sidon is on him. Fingers tight in Link’s hair, Sidon snares his page in fast, loud kisses while backing him into the bed. A shove to his chest sends Link flopping on it, already breathless. Sidon’s long fingers yank Link’s shirttails out of his trousers before attacking the brass buttons at his navel. Link forces the tremble out of his own fingers to help, taking care of his shirt. Cool air washes over Link as Sidon sits up enough to flick Link’s shoes from his feet, kicking them away once they fall to the floor.

A yelp rips out of Link as Sidon tugs his trousers and underwear down in a smooth motion. The rub of cloth tearing past his skin burns, but it won't matter soon. Link manages to ball his shirt up and throw it over the side of the bed before Sidon’s weight flattens him to the mattress. His Lord hums and sighs into his neck. That all helps Link stay in the moment. He doesn't want to think about Ganon or their vicious exchange. Link clings to Sidon’s back with nails and his ankles crossed while his lord rocks against him. Sidon hasn't even removed any of his own clothes yet. They're both too frantic in their needs to bother. Sidon only sits up from his biting and kissing when Link remains still, quiet. Subdued.

“My love?” He pants, shoving loose, red hair out of his face. “What's wrong?”

Link’s fingers tighten over the shelf of Sidon’s shoulders.

“N-nothing. I just…” He gives an impatient wiggle under Sidon. “I just need you, my Lord. Please.”

Sidon stares at him in silence for a moment. Link avoids his gaze, although he's not confident that's the correct thing to do. No matter what he does, Sidon always knows when he's lying. Or hiding something. Link’s stomach winds up like a clock spring the longer Sidon stares down at him. One hand lifts up from the bed to cup Link’s cheek. Sidon uses that hold to turn Link’s head to face him. Link’s eyes still don't dare meet his.

“Link, look at me.”

He must obey, and he does so with a nervous dart of his eyes up to Sidon’s.

“What did that brute of a man say to you? Tell me.”

Shaking his head hard, Link pulls Sidon back down and holds him in a vice.

“No, it's wasn't him, Sidon, I promise. I just… I missed you, is all. I could barely contain myself when he finally dismissed me. Please, just… let's not talk about him.” Link tightens his legs around Sidon’s hips. “I want you, my Lord. Please have me?”

Link’s boldness must soothe Sidon’s suspicions. He relaxes on top of Link and goes back to mouthing at the side of Link’s neck. Link gasps at each little bite and rocks his hips up. The more Link plays along and reacts, the more tension slips out of Sidon. The fight melts out of him completely by the time they gently rock the bed with their motions.

“Mmm,” Sidon hums just below Link’s ear. “And how exactly shall I have you?” He punctuates that by snapping his hips against Link, relishing his shudder. “Tell me, sweet boy.”

Link’s belly shakes as he tries to breathe under Sidon’s weight. His shame boils away under all that weight, and Link dives straight into the madness that consumes him when he's alone with Sidon. He could never do or say the things he does in this bedroom without Sidon making him drunk with affection and his mellow voice. Distantly, the logical part of Link knows his happiness is at stake. He has something to prove, now. Ganon has sewn the seed of doubt in him. And after this morning… Link has doubts.

“Like this,” he gasps, thighs shaking with each rub between them. “Just like this. On… on my back, please, please…”

Sidon bites him particularly hard over a stretched tendon in his neck. Link is sure he’s making a mess against Sidon’s trousers, but it's nothing a wash can't fix.

“Perfect. Shall we try the corset again? There's nowhere for you to fall already on your back,” Sidon teases. “Let me have you in it.”

Link tosses his head away from Sidon’s sharp teeth and pleads, “Yes, anything, just hurry. Please…”

Sidon scoops Link up from the bed and laughs lightly in his ear while trying to get him to stand. He has to shuffle Link to one of the tables in the room and make him lean on it. Link shivers in the chilly bedroom once Sidon leaves him. He watches with pitiful, huge eyes while Sidon takes his sweet time unwrapping the corset from the box and thumbing out any wrinkles in it. Link makes sure to stay still and calm as Sidon laces him up. He doesn't want a repeat of this morning or the time with the green dress.

So, the moment the back starts to close up, Link pushes his chest and stomach out. Sidon’s lips are   a near constant presence at his throat and the delicate skin at his nape. Link’s nails may scratch the lacquer of the table in front of him, but he doesn't care. He's too busy keeping Ganon’s harsh words contained behind a door in his head and focusing on Sidon touching him at the same time. Link closes his eyes for only a second—he swears it’s a second—and opens them to Sidon and the ceiling above him.

“How does that feel?” Sidon pants out, having been moving with Link for long enough to break out into a sweat. “Am I hurting you?”

Link startles hard under Sidon and tries to arch towards him. How had he blocked out Sidon preparing him, lifting his legs up, and shoving inside him? Now it all clicks into place, and the weight of a cock in him almost burns. Like someone has stuck a hot poker through his flesh and left it there. The corset—as tight as this morning, of course—restricts Link’s movements. So despite the pleasure raking across his walls and sensitive places inside him, he can’t give his body the stretch and thrashing that it wants.

Normally, Sidon would have to hold him down to keep him still. Now, every twitch just reminds Link how little room he has to breathe. Despite Link’s stillness—the reason Sidon had sat up to check on him—Sidon plants a hand in the middle of his chest to feel him. No force bears down on Link’s chest. This isn’t meant to keep him from moving. Sidon slows his pace to a lazy roll of his hips, barely pulling out of Link at all. He watches from his high perch with sweat on his upper lip and his bangs sticking to his face.

“Link?”

Shaking his head, Link tries to move with Sidon. Anything to coax him into hurrying this along and releasing him from the corset. It only takes a modicum of Sidon’s strength channeled through his hand to pin Link down. Link whines and finally meets his lord’s burning eyes. It must be what Sidon wants, because he changes back to snapping his hips forward like before. Link tosses his head back and pants for more, harder, anything. Begging like this usually presses some sort of button in Sidon, and he drops all pretenses and teasing to finally use Link how he wants. How they both want, if Link’s young body is about to overflow with pent up hormones and desires. He’s at that point, all shame vanished for now. He tightens around Sidon and rocks with him despite Sidon’s hand pinning him. That hand slips down to fist his little cock, driving him faster towards an orgasm.

A muscle in Link’s back twinges when he tries to arch again. It’s too much, trapped in the corset like this. But he must as all the buzzing energy in him drains from higher points in his body and pools below. It tingles the most where he’s speared open on cock, velvety flesh thundering through his entrance. The jarring smack of his lord’s pelvis into his ass is what keeps him grounded. The strike of their sweaty skin doesn’t allow him to lose himself completely in all this. But it’s a battle of wills, especially with Sidon’s hand on him as another hotspot. Each swipe of Sidon’s thumb or curl of his fingers over the head teases Link’s skin more and more. Link’s fingers claw into the damp bedspread beneath him as so much sensation on sensitive skin pushes him over the edge.

His hips jerk off the bed, driving his pitiful erection into Sidon’s hand. His Lord must take care to not get anything on the corset. Link shivers as a wet hand wipes on his thigh after releasing him. Cool air rushes between his legs and under his back as Sidon shifts away. He’s painfully empty long enough for Sidon to flip him over. A tiny whimper curls out of Link’s mouth as his chest lands on the bed. Breathing is an impossible task like this, and Link forces weak arms under him. Lying on his front is too much for his trapped diaphragm and belly—he can’t make enough room to breathe properly. Sidon’s body is warm against the backs of his thighs and rear the moment Link tries to sit up. A familiar hand in his hair, cupping the back of his head, drives him down, into the bed. Sidon’s other hand at his hips keeps his ass canted up, and knees knocking into his spread him open again.

“Not finished with you, my little one,” he coos. The head of his cock burns once again at Link’s entrance. “Keep still for me.”

Somehow, Link has enough air in him to let loose a scream when Sidon starts fucking him again. His backside aches already from Sidon taking him, but now all the softness has gone out. The springs in the old bed take up Link’s cries when his air gives out. He uses what precious little air he snatches between smacks of Sidon’s hips into his ass to not pass out. Like this, the top of the corset digs into his chest like hundreds of fingers carving into him.

The pain dips below Link’s mind with the bright swipe of a hand on his ass. Sidon pops him a few more times like that before Link manages another scream. The hand in his hair keeps him down, and its brother at Link’s hip doesn’t allow his body to give out and flatten on the bed. He wants to stay still for Sidon, he does! Sidon bending him like this is the only thing that keeps his body up. He would love nothing more than to lie on his belly and let Sidon finish. Hot, wet breath ghosts across Link’s right shoulder blade moments before messy lips mouth at his skin.

Sidon may murmur against his skin, but Link isn’t sure. His focus narrows down to twin burns in his body—one Sidon’s cock and the other his lungs. Sidon carries on even as Link goes quiet again. The edges of Link’s vision turn red and fuzzy at first. A black outline looms, threatening to grow. Even when Link’s eyes close, the play of colors continues behind his eyes. He can’t tell which way is up like this. The world flips over, and Link startles like he’s fallen out of bed. That sensation frightens him, so he forces his eyes open to watch the mattress move with them. Sidon’s panting hasn’t stopped against his shoulder, only increased as he sucks down air. He must be near the end, and Link wheezes under him in an attempt to speak. He wants to beg for Sidon to hurry, to finish in him and let this be over. He needs the corset off now, now, he can’t breathe, he can’t!

Cool air once again rushes in to flow over Link’s back as Sidon arches away from him. Distantly, Link thinks he hears Sidon bellow to the ceiling as he comes, but a dull ring in his ears blocks most sounds. If only his sense of touch were dulled, too. Sidon pulling out sets everything between his legs ablaze in aching pain. Without Sidon’s hands on him, Link’s flops like a broken doll to the bed and doesn’t move. He’s probably making a mess on the blanket, cock still wet from his orgasm and come slipping out of him. He can’t care with his head still swimming and dangerously vacant of oxygen. Colors burst into bloom in waves even with his eyes open. If he had the necessary room for his stomach to heave, he’d throw up. A hand gently rolls him over, taps his cheek a few times to gain his attention. That hand just as quickly shoves him onto his stomach, rips open the laces at his back, and blesses him with a gulp of air.

Link’s ragged gasp almost immediately turns into choking and gagging as he begins to cry. Sidon hadn’t hurt him, no, but the terror of not breathing… Link doesn’t fight his lord’s arms that scoop him up and cradle him. Sidon shushes his hiccups with soft words and kisses to his hair. Sidon tugs his chin up at one point, but Link can’t see him past the haze of tears. Sidon just holds him while they lie on their sides.

Despite his churning emotions and sick stomach, Link finds his usual spot under Sidon’s chin. The chill of the bedroom settles into his skin even with Sidon’s warmth plastered along his side. Link burrows deeper between his lord’s arms until Sidon laughs lightly at him and pets his hair. Like this, Link floats down from his state of emergency and finds an uneasy peace beside Sidon. He avoids his lord’s gaze when Sidon leans back to look at him.

“My, my, what was all that about?” He nudges Link onto his back and then sits up. He ignores the way Link’s hands scramble to keep them together. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you cry so much.”

Hands shaking, Link holds himself across his stomach and wheezes, “I… I couldn’t breathe, my Lord. I was frightened.”

Sidon gives him a pitying sort of look—one eyebrow high, smirk a little mean—before he rises from the bed.

“Frightened? My boy, what could you possibly be frightened of when you’re with me? I had you the whole time. There’s no danger here.”

He says so with a laugh. But within that laugh, Link hears his joy. Link forces his dinner to stay where it is and slowly sits up. Sidon has already thrown a nightshirt over his head and now fusses with one of the windows. His pipe lies on the windowsill, lighter beside it. Link holds his right arm while Ganon’s words echo between his ears. He’d held them back the moment he walked into Sidon’s study to collect him for the night. But now, they rush back and taunt him, shred his weak heart with their barbs until he shakes on the bed. Sidon faces the window, but cocks his head in order to shoot Link a curious glance. His eyes call Link to his side, and the poor boy stands on shaky legs. A mess drips down the inside of one thigh, but he’ll clean it up later.

“I couldn’t breathe,” Link repeats while stumbling to Sidon’s side. “The corset, my Lord… You tied it too tightly, just like—”

“Oh, enough of that.” Sidon throws his head around while rolling his eyes. “I don’t want to hear any more of this ‘you tied it too tightly’ business.” His voice rises in pitch slightly to mock Link. “I don’t appreciate your fibbing, Link.”

When his hair had slipped out of its ribbon, Link isn’t sure. But it bats lightly at his cheeks when he shakes his head.

“N-no, Sidon, please, I’m not lying. I truly couldn’t—”

He turns narrow eyes on Link with grey smoke curling out his mouth and adds, “I also don’t appreciate you lying to me earlier. I know something that brute said upset you. Now tell me what it was.”

“Nothing,” Link pleads. “He… You know how he is, how bluntly he speaks.”

“He is rather rude,” Sidon agrees. “More rudeness than should be allowed, no matter his sour disposition.” His pipe rests between his lips for a moment or two before he looks Link’s way again. “What did he say?”

“I… nothing, my Lord, just…” Link stares at Sidon’s right hand dangling by his hip, unable to meet his eyes. “Nothing but bar room type talk.”

Sidon turns fully towards him and says with ice clinging to each word, “I don’t believe you.”

Shoulders hunched from that chill, Link admits quietly, “He was speaking ill of you, my Lord. He does so from time to time and… I could stand it no longer.”

“There is no love lost between he and I. However, your defense of my honor does touch my heart, my boy.” Sidon reaches up to play with some of Link’s hair. “How sweet of you.”

Link lifts his head and points out, “You could be kinder to each other, my Lord. Even behind closed doors.”

Sidon scoffs at that and flicks Link’s hair from his fingers. The side of his pipe clicks softly on the table when he rests in there, leaves burnt and spent. He plucks another nightshirt from the chair at his side and offers it to Link. His face hangs on to his displeasure, though. His lips are tight, eyes slightly narrowed. Link takes the nightshirt before Sidon throws it at him. Somehow, even though they’ve had each other and found release, just the mere mention of Ganon rouses Sidon’s ire from the wreckage. The nightshirt nearly tangles in Link’s ears in his haste to pull it on. He needs a trip to the washroom on the other side of the suite, but not until he soothes Sidon’s temper. Sidon walks past him during this, and when Link’s head pops out of the nightshirt, he finds his lord sitting on the bed. Shuffling with his eyes down, Link stands at his knee.

“I am as courteous to him as society dictates. Well within my manners,” Sidon objects, arms braced in the bed behind him. “He could show the same respect to me, at least to my face. But he doesn’t. You are not subjected to his rudeness while we discuss business, Link. It is inexcusable. So”—he shrugs—“why respect the brute while he’s out of earshot?”

“Well… For politeness’ sake, my Lord.”

Sidon sneers at him.

“Empty words for an empty-headed bastard. I will do no such thing.”

Fingers tangled in his nightshirt, Link blurts out, “Do not speak so harshly!”

Sidon blinks at him, face blank and lips a little slack. His body catches up with the rest of him after a second or two and reacts as such.

Sitting up and then standing in one, fluid motion, Sidon towers over Link when he murmurs, “Come again? I think I misheard you.”

“I… I mean…” Link scurries back a step, but Sidon advances to make up for it. He stares at their naked feet and stutters, “You, I-I mean we, we should always strive for, um… politeness and civility with our fellow man. If you disrespect M-Master Ganon in private, then aren’t your manners, um… hollow? Do you truly respect him, then?”

Sidon laughs through a huff, although no humor lurks in the noise, and asks, “Did you not just defend me while he did much the same a moment ago? And now you rise to his honor?”

“You shouldn’t…!” Link squeezes his eyes shut to block Sidon’s clenched fists at his sides. “You shouldn’t call him such names. It isn’t right.”

“Can you stand here and tell me truthfully that he treats me to the same courtesy?”

Link’s head shoots up, and he nearly shouts, “I deter him from those harsh things! And he tries to not speak poorly of you around me. He tries, my Lord!”

Sidon’s thin look from a moment ago has thinned even more, like a drought plagues him.

“You seem so eager to praise him.”

He takes a step into Link’s personal space, and Link jumps to retreat.

“And when we returned, your face barely clear of the blush I gifted you… You were so eager to return to his side. And, and!” His face widens, madness raising his voice. “Even after I caught you in the hallway near supper, told you specifically to come to me tonight, you arrived just two hours shy of midnight.”

“M-My Lord, please, I—”

Link’s back bumps into the wall beside the window. Sidon leans down with a palm flattened next to Link’s head. This close, the mania making Sidon’s eyes a bit too wide, shaking his pupils a bit too much, is inescapable to Link. And all that madness focuses on him.

“What game are you playing?” He hisses. “Do you enjoy toying with my heart? Do you enjoy serving our ‘honored guest’ so much? So much that you would defend his honor so hotly?” Sidon slaps his hand to the wall when Link does not speak. “What sorts of ‘services’ have you provided our most honored guest, dear Link? Please, do tell me.”

His hushed voice rises and falls, full of scorn and meanness. Link stands shivering, words caught under the frozen pond of his fear.

“Speak!” Sidon barks, spit flying from his lips.

Jumping and nearly slamming his head into the wall, Link squeaks out, “Nothing! I would never, my Lord, I play no games, I promise!”

The hand plastered to the wall near his ear tears down to wrap around his throat. Both of Link’s hands instantly fly up to cling to Sidon’s left arm. Pain sparks along his neck as Sidon pulls him up a bit, onto his toes until he scrambles for purchase.

Nose to nose, Sidon growls, “Don’t lie. Don’t you dare lie to me. How long, hmm? How long did you last before you feel to your knees before him, whorish mouth waiting? I suppose you got started right away after you massaged his feet.”

“I didn’t!” He pleads. “I would only have you, my Lord. I promise, please, please, belie—”

Sidon releases his neck and just as quickly backhands him across the mouth with the same hand. Already unstable on his toes, the strike knocks the floor out from under Link. He spills to the floor, right hip smacking into the unforgiving wood. The impact with the floor knocks a yelp out of Link, but not much else. His shoulder and hip throb from bone striking the floor. He’d fallen on his right elbow, but even his left hand shakes while reaching across his chest to cradle his slapped cheek.

The world still spins a little as Link sits. He doesn’t immediately take in how hot his cheek is, how the inside stings from his teeth slicing into it. He gets a breath or two into him before turning huge, terrified eyes up at Sidon. On the journey up, it doesn’t escape the poor page how his lord is half hard under his nightshirt. That chills his heart further and freezes his words solidly with fear.

“Get out,” Sidon snaps under his breath. “I’ll have no more of your whoring tonight.”

He turns his back on Link and strides to the bedroom doors. Yanking one of them open, Sidon then regards Link with a haughty look, staring down his straight nose. Link lingers in a pile on the floor until Sidon lowers his chin slightly. His gold eyes turn hard with steel once more, and Link knows Sidon will be upon him again if he dallies.

Link scrambles to put the floor under his feet once more and then just as nervously skitters to the door. He must pass Sidon to exit the room, and he does so with his chest caved in and shoulders shielding his ears. Still, Sidon’s palm is flat between Link’s shoulder blades when he shoves the boy the rest of the way into the hall. Link trips over his own feet and catches himself on a wall. Breathing hard, Link throws his head around to meet Sidon’s eyes.

He expects one final jab from his lord. But Sidon just stands tall, heels together and chest out, before shutting the door. He doesn’t slam it. Doesn’t throw it so hard that it bounces back. With a quiet snick, the door shuts and locks, leaving Link in the dim light of the hallway. Some of the wall lamps are snuffed out at night, to conserve gas. And far from the warmth of a radiator or fireplace, the hall chills Link’s skin.

The nightshirt barely covers him past mid-thigh, and the sleeves are thin. Link carefully pushes himself off the wall in order to hold himself. He wants to cradle his throbbing cheek, too, but it’s too cold out here to do that. The chill will do the abused skin some good. Link throws one last, heartbroken glance at the marital suite before stumbling away. His rear end takes this time to remind him what they’d just done. It’s one more insult to add to his injuries.

Stumbling past Hestia’s closed door, Link arrives at his little room next door to Sidon’s study. The room will surely be as chilly as the hallway. He hasn’t slept here since the night before Hestia left. He leans against the door with his right shoulder, hisses at the pain, and then stands up straight. The whole right side of his body aches in one way or another. He’s just happy he hadn’t struck the floor with his head.

Taking an unsteady breath, Link tries to calm the rough seas in his stomach. They churn and toss about, threatening to drown him. Link even drops an arm down a little to hold himself where the emotional pain boils in him. Fear spikes his guts under his arm when he goes to open his bedroom door. If some sort of madness possesses Sidon tonight and he comes searching for Link… There will be nowhere for Link to hide or run in his room. Sidon will have him, back to the wall, and no one the wiser to his fury. Link shudders on his feet, remembering the obscene presence of Sidon’s erection while cowering on the floor. Would… Would Sidon take him again? Beat him more now that he’s had a taste of it?

Ganon’s words from today surge against the door Link had locked them behind and remind him that Ganon warned him about this. Besides that brutal warning, though, Link also recalls Ganon’s offer of sanctuary should Sidon find madness tonight and submit to its desires. He’s still tacky between his cheeks, obviously used if Ganon sees him. Link tosses a fearful look over his shoulder at Sidon’s bedroom doors. They’ve not budged. Heart a tight ball in his throat, Link’s hand slips off his own door, and he hobbles down the hallway.

No light glows from under Ganon’s door. No sound gives away whether he’s awake or even here. Link lifts his hand to the knob, thinking to let himself in. But Ganon is a guest, and to walk in unannounced would be rude. Link’s world still tilts at a different angle right now thanks to Sidon’s brutality, and he must shake himself to correct his behavior. He shouldn’t even be doing this. He shouldn’t bother Ganon well past midnight. But… Ganon had specifically offered this exact thing!

The longer Link stands here, thoughts chasing their tails, the colder his body grows. The various aches currently plaguing him announce their presence the longer he stands here, too. He just wants to wash the violence from his body, climb into bed, and then lie there for a few years. Eyes tightly closed to ease the burning in them, Link feels the door open in front of him rather than see it. He opens his eyes to Ganon’s messy hair and startled face.

“Link? What happened?”

Link watches Ganon’s sleepy eyes zero in on his swollen cheek, the finger marks on his neck. Ganon doesn’t know about everything else the nightshirt hides, but he probably guesses. Now with an audience, an audience who clearly cares about him, Link’s will to damn his emotions fails. His shoulders jump in a little sob. He bites back the sound by sinking his teeth into his lip. He would bite the inside of his cheek, but he’d already shredded it on his fall to the floor. To appear weak in front of Ganon would normally bring him greater shame than earlier when Ganon had caught him and Sidon together. He has no time for shame with fat, hot tears rolling down his cheeks. Ganon sticks his head into the hallway to look up and down it, searching for others. When he confirms they’re alone, he curls an arm around Link’s back and pulls him out of the hallway. The door shuts behind them before the first squeal of a sob rips out of Link’s mouth.

“Hush, hush, you’re okay,” Ganon says, arms and chest already cradling Link to him.

They curl around each other with Link safe between the door and Ganon’s body. Link’s hands would pop buttons on Ganon’s nightshirt if it had any. They claw into the thin linen and cling to him for dear life. Without a second thought, Ganon’s huge hands hold him tenderly—one on his back and one in his hair. Ganon pays Link crushing said hand to the door no mind. It’s little price to pay to comfort the young man.

Ganon’s voice has none of its usual edge when he whispers, “Breathe or you’ll pass out. Stupid boy, I told you.” He sighs in Link’s hair and holds him tighter. “I told you.”

“I’m sorry,” Link chokes out. “I’m sorry that we fought. I’m sorry that I didn’t believe you. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

Ganon pulls them apart enough to shake him a little.

“Enough of that. Stop apologizing for trivial things. I said all that to wind you up, and wind you up I did.” The hand on Link’s back slips around to roughly thumb tears off his face. “Stop crying and calm down. You made it this far. You’ll be okay.”

“I’m sorry…”

Rolling his eyes, Ganon scoops Link up around the waist, takes a few steps to reach the bed, and then dumps him on it. Link bounces once or twice on the mattress before settling on his left side. He curls up under Ganon’s heavy stare, but meets the Gerudo’s eyes when the silence persists. Ganon had picked him up so easily, like he weighs nothing. Link wishes he could linger on those thoughts, but he’s a mess inside. That will have to wait until later when his world isn’t falling apart.

“Stop apologizing,” Ganon orders him softly. “We can talk about our argument later. For now, tell me where you’re injured.” He vaguely gestures towards Link’s face with his chin. “I see he spared your pretty face no mercy. How many times did he hit you?”

Link stores Ganon’s comment on his face for later, too. He's too torn up to deal with it.

“Just once.” He sucks down a calm, shaky breath. Ganon is calm. He can be calm. “And um… his hand was about my throat. He didn't choke me, but it hurts.”

Nodding, Ganon turns back towards the door and tosses over his shoulder, “I'm grabbing a rag from the washroom across the hall. Pull your nightshirt down. You're almost indecent.”

Link jumps at that and scrambles to yank the bottom of his nightshirt past his thighs. He hopes Ganon hadn't seen anything. That thought is silly once Ganon actually does walk across the hall. What does it matter if Ganon sees his body? This isn't the time for inappropriate things, and Ganon had already given his opinion of “grown men fawning over boys.” Face hot regardless, Link follows the sight of Ganon’s naked feet and legs across the hall. He'd come here for comfort—Ganon comforting, how ridiculous—and refuses to take his eyes off the Gerudo. But Ganon doesn't deviate from his words and only steps into the washroom. The pipes squeal a bit when Ganon opens the faucet, soaking a rag. He returns, shuts and locks the door, and then offers the rag to Link.

Link glances between it and Ganon’s face, unsure of what Ganon means for him to do with it. Ganon rolls his eyes again, grabs one of Link’s hands, and slaps the rag into it. Then, he wanders over to the little table and chairs. A pair of thin, linen trousers lie draped over the back of a chair. He faces away from Link and steps into them. Link diverts his eyes at the moment he would see more of Ganon than he wants. Well… maybe more than he should without the man’s explicit permission. He blushes again and can't chase the pink away when Ganon sits at the edge of the bed, feet flat on the floor.

Carefully, he takes the rag back and folds it in half. His other hand cradles the round point of Link’s chin and directs his head up. Link blinks and winces as Ganon presses the cold cloth to his cheek. Once he's sure Link won't bow his head again, the fingers at his chin fall away. Ganon’s mouth twists in displeasure at the occasional tear that still slips out of Link. The curl of his thick knuckles under Link’s left eye is oddly gentle as he rubs the tears and wet tracks away. Link tries to keep still besides a hard sniffle or shiver that shakes him.

This is a side of Ganon he's never witnessed. The man is quiet, tender. The quiet isn't new, but the calmness in this quiet and the concern laced in it are. Ganon’s default state, according to Link, is silence. The man only speaks to annoy or make a point. The urge to fill this silence and apologize again strikes Link and throttles him. Ganon had asked for calm and quiet, though. He'd especially asked for Link to stop apologizing. Link licks his lips as the last of his tears fall away. He grabs Ganon’s hand before he takes it back.

His little voice comes out in a croak when he admits, “I was wrong.”

Ganon says nothing to that, and his face remains smooth, calm.

“I…” Link swallows hard a few times. “You were right. I was afraid. I fell after he… struck me and…” Link shakes his head to dispel the shiver that wants to tear him apart. “I've never been more afraid of anything in that moment. I forgot every kind thing Lord Ruta ever said to me, every tender moment between us. I only knew that he was above me and… my back was to a wall.”

“Literally and figuratively,” Ganon adds.

In any other context, that would be the dark comment to lighten the mood. But now, Link only nods with Ganon’s hand and the cloth still cradling his sore cheek.

“What… what should I do?” His throat tightens and threatens to choke those words into silence. But he struggles through them despite the pain.

Ganon sighs and drops the cloth and his hand from Link’s cheek. It may not bruise too badly or at all. For now, it's just red and a little puffy.

“Right now? Sleep. In the future?”

Link leans forward, desperate to hear Ganon’s thoughts.

Mouth finally thinning into a line like Link is used to seeing, Ganon admits, “In the future, he will get worse. Now that it's begun, there is no hope in stopping it. You will either stay in his service and suffer or leave. And leaving will not be so easy.”

Ganon stands from the bed to return the cloth to the washroom. When he comes back this time, he leaves the door open.

“Go clean yourself up and then sleep.” He gestures vaguely to the bed Link still sits on. “You may stay here, if company fancies you. I will sleep in the chair by the fireplace. Or return to your room. It makes no difference.”

“I'll stay!” Link blurts out on the heels of Ganon’s last word. “I don't… want to be alone.”

“Then you won't,” he adds softly.

Tight inside again, Link nods and scoots to the edge of the bed. He takes care to keep the hem of his nightshirt down. The tiles of the washroom sting his feet with their chill. Hot water is too much to ask for in the middle of the night, so Link wets the rag with cold water. That stings too when he goes to wipe at the sticky mess trailing down his legs, between his cheeks. The lingering pain in his right shoulder and cheek overshadow the familiar pang of fucking.

This he can handle, has no other choice but to handle it. Sidon hadn't even rushed them tonight. It had been Link begging for him to hurry. All because he'd wanted to forget his and Ganon’s argument. Now, Link wishes he'd toughed it out here and maybe fought against Ganon a little more. Like the day they'd met and he told Ganon not to think so little of him. Link sighs with all the peach fuzz on him standing on end and the skin of his backside frigid to the touch. At least Ganon’s bed is warm. He'll be safe here.

He walks back into Ganon’s guest room to watch Ganon snatch one of the pillows from the bed. He catches Link’s eyes and nods to the bed. Link almost forgets to close and lock the door in his haste to do as Ganon says. He doesn't want the man’s temper flaring up and risk Ganon kicking him out. Safe behind the locked door, Link scampers back to the bed and climbs up. The sheets have gone cold without him, but Link burrows into them once more. He'll have them warmed up with a little wiggling.

He rubs his face against the one pillow left here and finds the scent of Ganon’s tobacco heavy in the cotton. Whatever soap Ganon uses is here, too, and Link hides his face in the pillow to smell all of it. The plush chair across the room scooting on the floor shocks Link’s heart. It skips a beat as Link lifts his head to watch Ganon settle. The man only has the pillow, his nightshirt, and linen pants. He forgoes a blanket or sheet. At some point, he'd started the fire again. The sour scent of gas lingers even after a spark takes to the vapors. Link’s cheeks pink a bit—well, more so for the beaten one—as he watches Ganon prop his feet up on one of the wooden chairs at the table. They catch each other’s eyes through the air

“Go to sleep,” Ganon says not unkindly.

Link nods and twists the bedspread tightly around him. He forms a cocoon of cotton and Ganon’s scent. Even with Ganon across the room, the smell of him and the wheeze of him breathing comforts Link. No way could he have slept alone in his room tonight. Despite the company, though, the manor is old and makes music at night. Wood shifts with the dropping temperatures. Pipes whine as pressure inside them changes. Not to mention feet walking down the hall or a hand jiggling the doorknob are easy noises for Link’s brain to conjure right now. Every groan of the house is Sidon prowling the halls, searching for him. Link lies there, facing the door, and counts the tick of the second hand on the clock. His lids grow heavy as time stretches on, but they refuse to stay closed. He startles at any and all sounds. Sick to his stomach, Link sits up in the dim light of one lamp and looks Ganon’s way.

The man slumps in the plush chair, chin in his chest and neck creasing in an unflattering kind of way. When he doesn't wheeze from the poor posture and smoking, he snores. Link wishes he could find sleep so easily. Or that Ganon’s snores would drown out the phantom sounds his brain makes up for him to hear. He so desperately wants to sleep, to give his body time to heal and forget for a while.

Would… Ganon object to staying up with him? Or sleeping beside him? It's inappropriate to share the bed, but the distance between them curdles his stomach. If Ganon were here, warm at his back, he could fall asleep. Link isn't sure why that is, what difference Ganon’s body next to him makes. But the worst Ganon can do is tell him no. Link will risk the rejection for the slim chance he says yes.

“Ganon?”

Link’s voice would put a sneaking mouse to shame. Ganon doesn't stir.

Sitting up taller, Link repeats louder, “Ganon?”

Link regrets waking the man when Ganon jumps hard in the chair. He whips his head up, eyes bleary and wild. He must remember where he is, why Link is here, because he doesn't immediately start yelling. He's scolded Link for waking him before. But no scold comes now.

Rubbing a hand over his face, Ganon mumbles, “What did I say, boy? Go to sleep.”

“I tried,” Link says while fighting the pout in his voice. “I cannot find rest. The noises in my mind and of the house rob me.”

Slouching once again in the chair, Ganon’s voice rumbles, “What do you suggest we do about that?”

Avoiding Ganon’s eyes, and especially the way his lower lids droop, Link pats the empty space beside him.

“Will you… come here? Sleep beside me?”

When Ganon doesn't immediately reject him—insulting him or otherwise—Link lifts his eyes. He finds Ganon staring at the edge of the bed. The rest of him is relaxed, but a tendon in his neck stands out.

“That… would be unwise, I think.”

Link shakes his head and clutches the blanket to his chest.

“Why? It would benefit me to have you here, to know I'm not alone. And if I wake from nightmares, you beside me would let me know I'm awake, that the nightmare is over.”

Ganon sighs and rubs at his temple.

“What makes you think you can trust me? That my hands won't wander in the night?” He glares at Link once rubbing at his headache proves futile. “It's not often I share my bed, and when I do, there isn't much sleeping to be had. I may mistake you for a partner in sleep and molest you without even knowing it.”

Lips firm, Link stares hard at Ganon. They sit for a spell, caught in this standoff. When Ganon offers no other explanation, no other excuse, Link unzips his lips.

“I trust you, because you are kind to me. And not in the gentle way kindness is usually associated. You do not lie or make things out to be better than they are. You're honest.” Link pats the space beside him again. “And you've already told me what you think about grown men having interest in me. You're not that way.”

“Sleep-addled minds and lonely hands know no difference,” Ganon argues. “And what did I say about you blindly trusting those who would do you harm?”

Swallowing thickly, Link tips his head and adds, “If you were to act on impulse, asleep or awake, I… would allow it.” He blushes fiercely and hopes Ganon can't see it in the dim, yellow light. “I would try to wake you, but you would not harm me. And I am not afraid of you. Or your hands.”

Ganon scoffs.

“And when exactly did you come to that revelation? While you were cowering at your master’s feet? Or calling me a hateful man?”

Anger rises in Link like a plume of ash from Death Mountain. But he bottles it. Ganon is just trying to wind him up.

“I've not been afraid of you since the day I met you, I'll have you know.”

He says it calmly, but Ganon senses the fight in him.

“Ah yes, the day I called you ‘catamite’ and had you on your knees already. Of course. And the other bit? Welcoming me into your bed, hmm? Do you take me for a fool?”

Lifting his head in a proud sort of way, Link points out, “I was the one who offered to massage your feet. I did it willingly, would do so again. You insult both of us by thinking I could not find some redeeming quality in you. Your horrible manners aside, I do have eyes, you know.”

Link must calm himself, lest he give away more than he intends. Ganon probably wouldn't believe him anyway, if he knew Link thinks he's handsome. Dashing in a rugged, wild sort of way. Link could not confess such a thing without stammering and blushing up a storm anyway. And now is not the time for that. Before Ganon builds up more steam, Link circles back to Ganon’s second inquiry.

“I called you that too hastily,” Link admits quietly. “I said that out of anger, and I apologize for it now.”

Jumping on his words, Ganon bites out, “Things said in anger are often true. You haven't the time to lighten your thoughts or concoct a lie. You hate me, boy, I know you do.”

Eyes bright in the gas light, Link stares hard at Ganon and punches out, “No.”

That blows some of the wind out of Ganon’s proud sails. He sits with his mouth open, more harsh words ready and yet dying where they lie. He blinks at Link a few times before trying to regroup.

“No? No what?”

“Say what you want about me. Insult me, call me names. But do not assume my feelings for you or put words in my mouth. If I say I trust you, that I am not afraid of you, then I'm not. And I do not hate you.”

Link watches the play of emotions that flint over Ganon’s face. If he hadn't spent a week nearly glued to the man’s side, none of it would make sense to Link. Denial rises to the surface first. But before Ganon gives words to the emotion, anger comes next. His teeth are white behind his grimacing lips. Link thinks he spies… hurt next. Upset? Like Ganon doesn't want Link to trust him. That confuses Link, and he misses any other emotion Ganon struggles with after that. Gnashing his teeth one more time, Ganon shoves himself out of the chair and stomps across the room.

“Foolish child,” he snarls above Link. Unlike with Sidon staring down at him, though, Link feels no fear. Embarrassed excitement maybe, but not fear. “How can you feel anything other than hatred for me? I humiliate you, treat you worse than a dog! Are you so empty-headed that you cannot—”

Link reaching out lightly to caress the back of Ganon’s clenched fist steals his words. Ganon flinches under his touch, but does not rip his hand away. Startled, emerald eyes dart down to where their skin slides together. He just as quickly redirects his gaze back up to Link. Still speechless.

“Please?” Link’s fingers curl around the side of Ganon’s palm and tug a little. “Say whatever you want about me, but do it down here.” A smile blooms on his lips. “You can insult me to sleep, and then I won't bother you anymore.”

Sucking in a loud breath through his nose, Ganon grumbles, “You are an insufferable brat.”

It's the death throes of a losing argument, and Link knows it.

He tugs hard on Ganon’s hand and asks, “What else?”

Ganon growls something under his breath before tearing their hands apart. He stomps across the room, picks up the pillow, and turns the gas lamp out on his way back. That plunges them into almost darkness, save for the small fire burning in the fireplace. Ganon will leave that on to keep them warm through the night. The pillow he’d grabbed nearly hits Link in the face when Ganon throws it down. The bed dips, and then a heavy body plasters itself to his side. The moment Link tries to roll to face Ganon, a huge hand snags his shoulder and shoves him back around.

“Absolutely not, you little hellion,” Ganon huffs in his ear. “Face that way. You asked me to share the bed, not cuddle you.”

He always faces Sidon when they sleep. He hadn't even thought about it, truthfully. He's embarrassed enough to just nod and allow Ganon to position them they way he wants. And despite his words about cuddling, he throws an arm over Link regardless. It rests on top of the blanket, pinning it to Link’s stomach. Ganon huffs and grumbles about it, but he eventually settles snug and warm behind Link. He'd made no pretense of forcing them to opposite sides of the bed. Placing pillows between them. One of them sleeping on top of the blanket. Ganon holds him like they do this every night, like Link’s waist is a familiar spot for Ganon’s arm. The Gerudo spoons behind him without hesitation, and it leaves Link nearly breathless. And when Ganon’s breath tickles the back of Link’s neck, Link shivers like Ganon is about to kiss him. Sidon would, just before murmuring good night to him.

Ganon offers a different sort of pleasantry.

“Go to sleep,” he grumbles. “You've kept me awake long enough. Not one more word out of you, understand?”

Refusing to lose their catty back and forth, Link flings a hand out from under the blanket to cover Ganon’s on his stomach. He rests it there lightly, sure that Ganon will tear away and roll over. The black hand under him flinches, but that's all. Link holds his breath, thinks Ganon probably does the same, and waits. A huge sigh plays with Link’s loose hair. Ganon’s arm tightens around him. He says nothing until a snore rumbles out of him.

Link lies awake, staring at the door. His surprise keeps him awake while Ganon slumbers behind him. He'd begged Ganon awake with the knowledge that Ganon joining him would be a shot in the dark. And now… now they're here. Together. Ganon is far warmer than Link had counted on, but it's the most pleasant thing he's felt in ages. It's Ganon’s warmth that wins versus Link’s surprise. He finds sleep with the gentle in and out of a broad chest and belly tucked tightly to his back. 


	7. Comforts of Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sort of a filler chapter, but it does move the plot between Ganon and Link along. A tiny bit. 
> 
> Also to any fans/readers who like my work and don't know what's going on, I'm writing fanfiction for my first anime again! I haven't written for Yu Yu Hakusho since 2005, but I finished my first fic since then this week. It will start publishing after "Skilamalink" wraps up. And if you'd like to read the new stories I'll be putting out, you should go watch the anime/read the manga. It's a shounen anime from the 90s, so prepare yourself lol. I hope some of you will enjoy it and thus follow me along in this transition? But ya know, it's not for everyone. And maybe our paths will cross again someday lol. Anyway, enjoy.

Link is thankful Sidon doesn't ask to see him at night after that. His attitude takes an even sharper spiral down. Ganon hints that business talks between them have slowed to a stop. He is due to leave in two weeks, Hestia returning around the same time. Everything is against Sidon, and now he's lost his stress reliever as well. Sidon’s ire rakes down Link’s back or face whenever their paths cross. They’ve not had a moment alone together since that night. Link promises himself to stay by Ganon’s side when in Sidon’s company, no matter what. He certainly doesn’t attempt to return to Sidon at night, either.

He uses Ganon’s company to his advantage then, too. Link makes a point to loiter in Ganon’s room even after the man passes out on the bed. Link sometimes startles awake just before dawn, either slumped over in the plush chair or even curled up in the bed. He doesn't welcome himself to Ganon’s bed, so it must be him who carries Link and tucks him in. When that happens, Ganon always faces away from him and lies on top of the covers. Their closeness from that harrowing night a week ago has evaporated. Ganon’s disposition hasn’t changed. He's still sarcastic and biting, like always. And for that, Link is also thankful. He can write off their close night together as a one off. A rare occurrence.

Still, when Link wakes turned towards Ganon’s back and watches him breathe for a while, he wishes Ganon would hold him instead. He'd awoken so gently the morning after that terrible night. All thanks to Ganon. Link is sure they’d rolled away from each other through the night, but by morning, Ganon’s arm had been heavy and welcomed around his waist. They do not speak of that night or Sidon’s attack on him. Link continues to serve and fetch for Ganon like nothing had happened.

He thinks not of the future looming before him, the future where Ganon leaves and he has no one to turn to. Ganon must suspect his worry. Link often finds kind, thoughtful eyes watching him when he and Ganon are alone. Ganon does not ask what plagues him. But he probably knows. Link just offers him a smile and continues his task or whatever leisure activity Ganon has set him to. He's read more in this week than he has in the rest of his life combined. He will miss this too when Ganon departs for home.

“Will you tell me about your life? What it's like when you're home?”

Link poses this question during a moment of melancholy, when he thinks of Ganon leaving and can't hold his tongue. They wander the garden as Ganon smokes, leaving a spicy, grey cloud behind them. The sun has already passed its high point in the sky. They wait for supper, still an hour or so away.

“Home?” Ganon mumbles around his cigarette. “What about it?”

Link shrugs.

“I honestly don't know anything about Gerudo culture or your homeland. Well, besides that it's desert.”

“Why?”

Ganon stops on the path when he asks that. He watches Link through squinted eyes. The sun is in them.

“I want to know more about you,” Link confesses. The privacy of the garden makes him bold. “Soon you will leave, and I'll have little to remember you by. I want to learn all I can about you.”

Humming, Ganon snatches his cigarette from his lips and murmurs, “Careful, Link. Can't have me thinking you'll miss me when I'm gone.”

Turning completely around to face Ganon, Link clasps his hands in front of him. He should not confess this. It would change nothing for Ganon to know the truth. But there is freedom in speaking the truth, and Link wants Ganon to know.

Voice carried a little by the breeze, Link admits, “I will miss you, though.”

Ganon shakes his head and then stomps the rest of his cigarette out. He brushes past Link, but only walks far enough ahead to sit at a bench. The sun narrows the glare he aims at Link until it looks like his eyes pinch shut. A thick finger curls at Link, coaxing him forward. Link tosses a glance to the manor in the distance. They’re on the far side, the wing containing the guest rooms. Sidon’s study and the marital suite should be out of sight. Ever since that night Sidon had accused Link of sleeping with Ganon, he can’t forget the brief flash of red he saw when Ganon offered him his cigarette. In hindsight, he’s sure Sidon had seen them. That misconstrued image must have fueled his anger, and then Link practically avoiding him that night just set off the whole powder keg. The pieces of that puzzle only fall into place now that he looks back on it. Ganon sighs heavily next to him, though, and knocks those stray thoughts skew.

“What do you want to know?”

He glosses over Link’s admission, and Link is thankful for it. He’d stood at Ganon’s crossed knees, lost in thought, but now sits beside him. Ganon shoots him a look like he should sit on the opposite side of the bench. Link makes no move to do so. Their shoulders brush.

Swallowing hard, Link plays with his fingers in his lap and asks, “Do you live in a big house like the manor? What does it look like?”

Ganon turns his head just enough to stare at Link. Link refuses to shrink down under that stare, so he just offers Ganon a smile in return. Emerald eyes blink at Link before Ganon shakes his head a little. It’s a fond sort of bewilderment. Link has grown used to it since their eventful night together. Ganon huffs at his ridiculous question, throws an arm along the back of the bench, and finally relaxes.

“Not like the manor, no. Large houses like this”—he jerks his head in the direction of the manor—“are ridiculous and wasteful. You use too much water here, and we lack it in the desert. Also, heat rises, so our houses are just one level. Even you must feel the temperature difference between the foyer and, say, up in your room.”

Link nods and asks, “So your house is small? Even though you have so much money?”

Scoffing, Ganon fires back, “Why live in a house that doesn’t suit my needs? If I were in the marrying way, the place would be overrun with our extended family and children. Then I would need a big house. But as it stands now, so long as I have gas and running water, my home suits me fine.”

Ganon says that so easily, but Ganon’s wording strikes Link deep in his heart. If? If he were married? Link had carried on this whole time just assuming Ganon was married. That part of Ganon’s displeasure being here is also because he is away from his wife and whatever family they have. That must not be the case, but then what does Ganon have to welcome him home if not family?

“Are you… not in the marrying way?” Link asks with his shoulders rising, uncertain.

“No. Can’t say that I am.”

Link hunts for any second meaning in those words. Ganon doesn’t look at him while digging in his pocket for his cigarettes and light. Link has picked up on Ganon’s nervous habit of smoking whenever the conversation turns towards him. Usually, Ganon just insults him or bickers with him to deter Link from such topics. It usually works. But they’re calm right now, and Link’s heart is still heavy with Ganon’s future departure. If Ganon has sympathy for that ache, then he shows it now by not snapping at Link. Link will have to tread carefully, lest he poke and prod Ganon too much and upset him.

“That’s okay,” Link says lightly. “You shouldn’t marry unless you want to. Unless you love that person.”

“A lesson you’ve learned from your dear Lord and Lady, hmm?”

Ganon says as much with a cigarette already wedged between his lips. He fights with the breeze to light it.

“Yes… But, um, anyway…” Link fidgets more and turns away at the first plume of smoke. “So… what’s it like when you’re home? Is the food different? I’ve only ever lived here and back home in Castle Town, and it’s not that different…”

Ganon shrugs.

“I live alone, so it’s certainly quieter. Besides the horse, there’s no one to bother me unless someone comes in from the refinery and needs me…” Ganon pauses at that and then shoots Link a look. “Do you know what a refinery is? What I do for a living and why I’m in business with your master?”

Ganon’s search for clarification tickles Link. Weeks ago, Ganon would have just made fun of him for not knowing these things. But now, he asks what Link knows rather than berate him. But, luckily for the light mood between them, Link is well aware of all that already. Not the specifics or the technique behind it, mind you, but enough for conversation.

“Yes. Lord Ruta explained it to me after a few days of you being here. It sounds dangerous working in the factory.”

“It is, but steps can be taken to protect your workers. Keep your head on and your protective gear on harder.” He grins around his cigarette. “Keep your head out of your ass, more like.”

The light breeze carries ash away from them as Ganon thumbs the filter of his cigarette. The warmth from Ganon’s tone washes over Link, and he doesn’t mind the stretch of silence. He hopes Ganon answers the rest of his questions. The mood between them is still soft and easy. Hopefully, he hasn’t run out Ganon’s kindness for his curiosity.

“The food is better at home,” Ganon admits after a while. “Everything seems to be pork here. Too much meat in general, and I don’t have the stomach for it. Luckily, you do, so I can foster most of it onto you. You could use it. I reckon I’ve never seen a seventeen year old so short and small.”

He says it with a grin, and Link shoves their shoulders together.

“It’s not as though I awoke one day and willed myself not to grow. You make it out as though I had some hand in it.”

Ganon sputters out a laugh at his sour, petulant tone.

“Oh yes,” he teases between laughs. “I can quite imagine you wanting to stay short and pretty forever. Serving tea and never getting your hands dirty.”

Face pink at the compliment, as backhanded as it is, Link sends his shoulder bumping into Ganon’s once more. The man barely moves, but he gifts Link another bark of laughter for his trouble.

“Are you trying to say I’m shiftless?”

Ganon nudges him back and fires off, “No, but you wouldn’t last a day in a laborer’s shoes. You have it easy, boy, you just don’t know it.”

“I could do anything, given proper instruction and with a patient instructor,” Link says, head held high.

Ganon’s voice is warm and deep in Link’s ear when he murmurs, “Think so, hmm? It ain’t all serving tea and dressing nicely. It’s hard work.”

Link whips his head around to defend himself and comes nearly nose-to-nose with Ganon. He jumps a little, but vertically is all the moving he does. Their proximity startles Link purely because he doesn’t expect it. Ganon’s closeness is unexpected, but not unwanted. The Gerudo may be betting on it just to get a rise out of Link. He’ll be the sore loser in this particular fight, though.

Link stares right back at him and tries to avoid looking at anything besides Ganon’s eyes. This close, the wrinkles and crease in Ganon’s thick face are obvious. The crow’s feet of his eyes tell a story. The lines from his nose to the corners of his lips show happiness as well as strife. Link especially tries to keep his eyes off Ganon’s lips. He's only ever kissed Sidon, never dwelled on kissing anyone else before or after meeting him. Until recently, of course. Link won't suffer Ganon teasing him about such a wild desire. So he keeps his eyes firmly on Ganon’s

“I would show you how wrong you are, sir,” Link says softly. He wonders if the puffs of his breaths tickle Ganon’s face. “If you took me home with you, I would earn my place no matter what task you set me to.”

He means it as a joke… mostly. But once the words are out of him and in the world, he thinks about it. He imagines the walls of Ganon’s simple house are a light color, rough from plaster and the wind. The well water is fiercely cold like the night, bitter with minerals. And they wake each morning together and bicker over who will bathe first, who will fix breakfast. Ganon would have to teach him how to wash clothes, especially if it must be done by hand and not a hand-cranked machine like here. Would Ganon teach him to cook, too? Well, he would if he wants breakfast or any other meal. Link’s out-of-focus eyes stare somewhere near Ganon’s chin until he blinks back into reality. He can't stop the blush that colors his face, and he knows Ganon sees it.

Ganon’s voice is rich and low, lacking any tease, when he says, “Take you home with me, hmm? Surely you jest.”

That hurts, and Link wishes it didn't.

“Yes,” he lies, turning to face the garden once more. “Just a joke.”

Tight silence grips them after that. Link regrets his words and wishes he didn’t hunger for truth so much. Why can't he hold his tongue around Ganon? It's just so easy to forget forced politeness around him. He can behave more… naturally around Ganon? It may be because no punishment waits for him for being so natural. Ganon expects nothing of him, no song and dance. He doesn't have to hide anything behind a fake smile or pleasant words.

Ganon has now seen him at his most vulnerable and only chastised him for hyperventilating. If he were to approach Sidon or anyone else in such a state, they would scold him for his hysteria and demand he sort out his emotions at once. Ganon had given him time to collect himself and explain what had happened, had listened to him when he needed it most. Link sighs beside the man and knows he will miss that freedom when Ganon leaves. He wishes now more than before that he hadn't given in to daydreams and imagined them living together. Ganon’s departure will hurt all the more, now.

“My situation is unorthodox, though.”

Ganon’s quiet voice breaks their silence gently enough that Link doesn't jump.

“How so?”

“Well, most of us live with our families. Mothers, aunts, grandmothers. Even people not related by blood. I live alone, if you recall.”

Heat bouncing around inside him, Link takes a risk. He leans against Ganon’s shoulder. He holds his breath after the first brush of their sleeves, thinking Ganon will shrug him off. When he doesn’t, Link leans more weight against him. Nothing happens. Link wonders if Ganon holds his breath, too.

“I’m sorry that you’re alone. I was after I ran away from home, and I would do anything to never repeat that.”

Ganon shocks Link by leaning a little on him, too. If all of Link’s senses weren’t aimed at that sliver of space where they touch, he would have missed it.

“It’s not so bad. It’s quiet.”

“Lonely,” Link adds. “No one should have to be alone.”

Before a tense silence falls over them again, Link turns a little and waits for Ganon’s eyes. Their shoulders still touch, and Link has grown used to Ganon’s warmth already.

“I bet you miss being home, even if you’re alone. Is there… anything I can do? To maybe bring you a bit of home while y-you’re here?”

The offer had sounded gallant and romantic in his head. But as he stutters over the words, Link blushes bright pink. It’s never like this when they snap and hiss at each other. Conversations like that flow so easily, like water off a cucco’s wing. Neither of them is skilled at this tenderness. Link is too shy and unsure. Ganon is too blunt and jaded.

But even as Link berates himself for something so idiotic, Ganon’s face does not twist into something annoyed or displeased. He watches Link with total calm, something Link sees so rarely on the Gerudo’s face. He'd seen it the night Ganon embraced him against the bedroom door and told him to breathe, to calm down. Link’s stomach flutters at that memory, but he pushes the emotions tied to those images aside. He must be present in case Ganon somehow takes him up on that offer.

“What did you have in mind?”

Link peeks up and blurts out, “Um… what's something you miss that's different here? Food maybe or… or music perhaps? Anything.”

Ganon’s hand drifts up towards his mouth like he's smoking. His fingers actually flinch as if to take his cigarette, but they come up short. Instead, he rubs his palm over his mouth and facial hair while considering Link. He twists a little on the bench to look Link straight on. That disconnects their shoulders, and Link’s heart sinks a little. Ganon so rarely allows him or welcomes him close like that. Link knows this is a dangerous game, growing so attached to a man so temporary in his life. But he refuses to resist it.

“I hate the rush of life here,” Ganon says vaguely. “Unless I'm halfway to drunk or passed out, relaxation eludes me. At home, we relax with family during meals or a bath. I could do that here, only the tubs are inadequate, and I detest this standing-while-washing nonsense. I've slipped every time, and you would do well to keep that knowledge to yourself.”

Link smoothes the little smile that had bloomed on his face at Ganon’s words. Imagining the giant man waving his arms and slapping the bath walls for balance tickles him. Ganon’s eyes narrow as Link tries to calm himself. He'd almost giggled.

“I see, um… bathing is usually a private affair here, unless you’re a young child or parents to said child.”

“I'm aware,” Ganon says with scorn dripping from each short word. “You Hylians have too much shame over your bodies. Too prude, too many reservations.”

Link chews on his lip and turns his head away a bit. Link knows he's shy. He's full of shame over most things except while clinging to Sidon in a moment of passion. And that takes some coaxing to get him to that point. Ganon calling him out on it makes him squirm. But if it's a proper bath Ganon wants, Link’s mind already races to figure out how to make that so.

The Zora family had once been known for their great gardens and love of water features around the manor. Besides silver in the mines, the company has drawn out other metals, too. Link has seen statues around the manor and in the garden—great, hulking globs of brass sculpted perfectly. The old family had been a fan of pools, too. All of that has either grown over deep in the garden or the metal taken and repurposed.

The rumor jumping from ear to ear is that Sidon’s estranged, half sister had been the blood heir of the family. However, she’d quit the family and married outside her social rank, distancing and disowning herself. Servants whisper only amongst themselves that Sidon is a bastard child of the male line in the family. But the main family had become so inbred and thin that without the sister, they had no choice but to leave the whole empire to him. It had been Sidon’s decisions to raise the gardens and do away with some of the family heritage. Still… Link bites himself harder while scrambling his brain, trying to recall where he's seen a large bath in the manor…

“Are you listening to me, Link?”

Link jumps and stutters, “N-no, sir, I'm sorry. I was thinking of your request for a proper bath, and… well…”

That snatches Ganon’s attention, and the beginnings of his anger die out.

“Well what? Speak up.”

Link jumps up from the bench, but leaves a hand on Ganon’s forearm.

“I think maybe… Well, come with me, and I'll show you!”

Link has no hope of grabbing Ganon’s hand and dragging him back to the manor. Regardless, Link’s fingers slip down Ganon’s rolled-up shirtsleeve to paw at his wrist. Ganon stares up at him with wide eyes and actually flips his hand over for Link. Link shoots him a beaming smile, wraps his fingers around Ganon’s palm, and then steps away from the bench. Tension tightens Link’s grip on Ganon’s hand when Ganon does not immediately stand. But the moment Link’s smile falters the slightest amount, Ganon stands from the bench with a muffled grunt. He makes no move to take his hand back.

“Well?” He squints in the sun lowering to the west. “Get to it.”

Blushing up to the tips of his ears, Link turns away and leads Ganon through the garden. He's sure Ganon will take his hand back, now. However, they make it all the way to a mudroom before they separate. They must separate to walk through the door. And when Link glances over his shoulder to make sure Ganon will follow him, Ganon nods his head towards the inner door. Ganon’s warmth blooms against Link’s back as they step through the damp, brick mudroom and into the manor proper.

They remain on the ground floor and wander past the kitchen, dining room, and foyer. Link’s stomach winds up in knots while he leads Ganon across the manor. He doesn't want the Gerudo to think he's started them on a wild cucco chase, that he doesn't know where he's going. Ganon’s patience is thin when he's not in control. But every brief glance Link casts over his shoulder to check on Ganon’s temper finds the Gerudo’s face smooth and calm. He meets Link’s eyes every time, and no scowl twists under them.

Link barely misses smacking his head into the closed, double doors of the room he leads them to. Ganon’s snort behind him doesn't escape him, but Link holds back his embarrassed flush. From his pocket, he slips out a ring full of keys and unlocks the two doors. One groans while Link pushes it open. He gestures inside and offers Ganon a little smile.

“I discovered it one day while exploring. I was afforded much more free time when I first entered into Lord Ruta’s service. That and he wanted me to know the whole manor, top to bottom. So one day… I, um, came upon this place and asked a stable boy to help me find the key.”

Ganon has yet to look or step into the room when he asks, “Why a stable boy?”

Link rubs the back of his neck and confesses, “Sometimes when the maids were particularly mean or if I upset Lord Ruta, I would run away to hide with the horses. And I befriended one of the stable boys after he found me… crying.”

Ganon only hums at that rather than blurting out the ridicule-filled words Link expects. It's what coaxes Link’s shoulders down from his ears.

“Anyway, um… So he worked here longer than me, but he didn't know what was in the room. So we searched around the house for the key. Asking someone would have been the smart thing to do, but we made a game out of it. We eventually found the key hidden in a vase in Lord Ruta’s study of all places.”

Link shrugs when Ganon cocks an eyebrow up at him.

“We broke the vase, but I don't think Lord Ruta ever found out.”

A single chuckle shakes Ganon’s stomach.

“Ah, and how did you manage that feat?”

“I… think we buried the shards somewhere. Throwing them away would have exposed us, we reckoned. So we buried them.”

Ganon finally steps forward to enter the room and mumbles, “Clever boy,” when he passes Link.

Before Link has a chance to stamp down his embarrassment or chastise Ganon on calling him “boy,” the Gerudo’s voice echoes in the huge, tiled room beyond.

“Goddess, would you look at that…”

Mosaic tiles cover the entire room, floor to ceiling. They paint a picture of the whole world, from the Akkala region in the northeast to Gerudo Valley in the southwest. The map even curves over the edge of the huge tub sunk into the floor, which is perhaps what had drawn out Ganon’s exclamation. The tub sits dead center over the Lanayru area, and the taps rise up where the manor would be. This particular spot is done mostly in blues, harkening to the tough, blue rocks that make up the area. The name of that particular rock eludes Link right now.

He only has eyes and thoughts for Ganon as the man wanders the room, head cocked skyward to take in the mosaic clouds above them. While the room captivates Ganon with its artistry and beauty, the man himself captivates Link. He's never seen someone so enraptured, expression blown open and honest at the majesty before them. Ganon’s genuine response to the chamber takes Link’s breath away, and the Gerudo catches him staring when he finally turns his gaze towards Link.

“It's beautiful,” he says simply. “Does it function? The pipes, I mean.”

Link nods hard if only to dispel the shiver trying to shake him apart.

“Y-yes, but it will take a few hours to fill. The, um, floor of the tub is heated, too. Shall I get started here, fetch dinner for you, and then accompany you back here once the bath is ready?”

Ganon considers him a moment with some wonder still shining in his emerald eyes. The bath must appeal to him well enough. He normally responds to pleasant things with a smirk or a leer. Link has never seen him so peaceful, not even in sleep. The rest of him catches up eventually, though, and Ganon’s expression closes back off.

“I reckon that’ll do. I will return upstairs while you”—he gestures to the room—“tend to this. Get the water as hot as you can stand when you go to fill it, please.”

The statement puzzles Link since the bath isn’t for him. But he nods and scuttles out of Ganon’s way when the Gerudo strides from the room. Link waits until the last bit of Ganon slips from the room before springing into action. He isn’t entirely sure if the pipes actually work… Everything had been in proper order three or so years ago when he discovered the place. The tap fights Link’s hand when he goes to twist it open, and it takes the young man slipping and sliding on the floor to force it. It gives with a surprised yelp from Link and sputters brown water at first. Link allows that to run clear before testing the temperature with his hand. The water is cold up here, sapped straight from a spring in the ground. If he listens closely, he hears a far-off boiler groan at the stress of heating said spring water.

Link has to make sure the bath is clean before he fills it. He leaves the water running and goes in search of a brush and some towels. He’ll scrub it like they do the kitchen floors. It must be perfect for Ganon. So, Link throws off his waistcoat and rolls up his trousers to start on the tub. After the first few scrubs, he rolls up his sleeves as well. Without an audience, no one will make fun of his thin figure. He adjusts the water flowing out the taps to keep it warm, but not hot. He just needs it hot enough to help scrub the walls and bottom clean, not burn himself. Soap or other cleaner may damage the tub, although he’s not confident in that area, so he relies on strength and hot water alone.

Rolling his trousers up to his shins isn’t enough when he gets to a few rough spots on the tub floor. So, Link sets the brush aside and drags his trouser legs up above his knees. It must look ridiculous, but short of removing them entirely, it’s all he has. Link sinks carefully to his knees and picks up a different brush—this one smaller and not stuck on the end of a wooden pole—and pays closer attention to the rough spots. Bent over like this and with the water running, he neither sees nor hears Sidon walk into the room.

“Ahem.”

Water sloshes around Link when he startles. His knees will smart later from how he grinds them into the tub. But that's a problem for later. Link rips his head up to find Sidon standing out of splashing range, but close enough. It's perhaps the first time they've been alone since… the incident. Link scrambles to stand and slap the taps shut, silencing the room for the most part. He thinks that’d been a mistake the moment he does it. Now, just the sound of his fast breathing rushes in his ears.

A drip from the tap breaks the silence, but it's not enough for Link. He fidgets with his wrinkled fingers and glances to the nudged-open door behind Sidon. What had brought his lord here? The room and tub are in obvious disuse. How had he even known Link was in here? There's nowhere to run, nowhere to hide, so Link stands there and stares somewhere about Sidon’s chest. He almost misses the tulips—plucked from the garden—clutched in his hand.

“I ah…” Sidon winces at his false start, but shakes himself out of it. “I sought you in the garden or in the guest wing, but could not find you. Someone pointed me in this direction, and here you are. Doing…”

Link kicks his foot to disturb the slowly draining water.

“Cleaning, my Lord. Master Ganon misses the comforts of home, and I thought to cheer him up with this old bathing chamber. This is more to his liking than the tubs upstairs.”

One corner of Sidon’s mouth twists into a grimace. He somehow stops the whole line of his lips from following that twitch.

“I… see. Keeping you busy, is he?”

A cheap shot. Sidon’s furious, hissing voice accusing Link of obscenities rises in his memory. No apology for that or the violence of that night has come his way. This is the first he's seen Sidon without Ganon between them or beside him. And Link can't help but notice the tulips. They're the ones Link had planted for Hestia. The irony does not escape him.

Mouth in a firm line, Link just stares at Sidon rather than say anything. He channels Ganon’s attitude towards the man and shoots him a chilly look. It probably looks out of place on him, but he's too shaken inside to try anything else. Alone with Sidon, anything can happen. And no one will hear—or heed—his cries for help if this turns ugly. That idea startles Link, that he would ever have to cry for help while with Sidon. The thought had never existed in his mind, and now it balloons, swollen and ugly, until he's nearly in a panic over it. Sidon just watches him with a frown when his rude comment draws no response.

“Anyway…” He glances around the room, eyes avoiding Link for a spell. “As I said, I sought you in your normal haunt, but came up empty handed. As I roamed the garden, I found these.”

Sidon lifts his left hand, offering the red and white tulips to Link. He does so stiffly, still not looking at Link.

“And they reminded me of you. So…”

Link gestures vaguely to the wet surfaces all around him.

“I thank you, my Lord, but I cannot take them right now. I have much to prepare for tonight, and all this activity and damp will be no good for them.”

Sidon doesn't care for that response. He drops his hand back to his side and fights a few expressions before disappointment wins out. Link had seen traces of furious anger and sadness. He supposes disappointment is the middle ground between them.

“Link…”

Sidon’s mouth gapes a few times as he struggles. He jumps between smiles and gnashing his teeth, grinding his words to dust. Link swallows hard as the damp air around them thickens. This is how it'd felt moments before Sidon struck him that night. Link is thankful for the ankle-deep water in the tub. Sidon will not ruin his shoes or trousers by stepping in here and reaching for him. Link leans slowly towards the brush on the long pole he'd set aside. Clutched in his hands, Link meets Sidon’s narrowed gaze. He would never strike or attack his lord. That's not the purpose of this. He needs to show Sidon this isn't the time for his madness. Link has duties to attend, and supper fast approaches. In the hallway beyond the bath’s double doors, a clock chimes five. Link sucks down a deep breath and prepares to do something he's never done before.

“I'm sorry, my Lord, but supper is soon, and I must have this done by then. Is there anything you need from me right now?”

He's never denied Sidon before. Not outright like this, choosing someone over him. Especially when said person isn't even here, wouldn't know about Link’s choice. Sidon blinks at him for a silent moment or two before his face falls a little.

“My boy, won't you come here for a moment? I admit apologizing is not my strong suit, but that's what I've come here for. You've been distant since our argument, and… well, I just wanted a moment alone with you to go over what I said, and…”

Link straightens his back and says quietly, “I forgive you, my Lord. But I must continue this task until it is complete. I will have a busy evening if I dally.”

“I think our esteemed guest can hold over without you for one blasted night,” Sidon grinds out, temper showing.

Link shakes his head and keeps his hands firm where they grip the brush’s pole. He's about to melt under the heat of Sidon’s ire, but he must keep it together.

“I'm afraid not, my Lord. Master Ganon takes to drinking himself into a stupor when his mood is poor. I must make sure he is well as he sleeps, lest he injure or suffocate himself on accident.”

Nose in the air, Sidon drawls, “Pity. I made plans for us tonight.”

Link gathers all his courage and risks it on a gamble. Sidon will either take his dismissal and leave or retaliate. Who would stop him from such a thing? Still, Link refuses to carry on this conversation. He has not moved on from that horrible night. And some hollow words and snatched flowers will not placate him. Twisting on the ball of a foot, Link turns around and gives Sidon his back. He makes a show of leaning into the strokes of his brush as he returns to his task. When stony silence bullies against his back, Link swallows the frog in his throat to deliver the final blow.

“Another night, Lord Ruta. I am occupied on this one, probably the nights after that, too. The health of our guest is my priority until he departs. It will be on my head should anything happen to him.”

The water muffles the rasp of the brush, but Link shuffles through the water to fill the silence. He won't dare turn around and face the glare surely pinching Sidon’s face. He's not one to be denied and especially not by Link. Even if Link wasn’t his page, Link would still be beneath him in class. Link sacrifices manners in order to save himself. He has avoided Sidon this long, blessed by some grace, but now Sidon has come to collect. Link tries to keep his breaths calm as the silence transforms into something lethal. Sidon will have to order him to turn around. Link will not crumble under his hard stare.

“Fine,” hisses out of Sidon’s tight mouth after a minute or two.

Link expects some insults or threats thrown his way. So the door Sidon had walked through slamming shut behind him nearly spills Link to the floor. He slaps a hand over his heart regardless and finally breathes hard and loud like he’d wanted. To release that stress is freeing. He’d thought for sure Sidon would punish him or… or worse! Who would stop the master of the house from dealing with rude servants? No one. Link stumbles a little as he makes for the edge of the tub. His hand catches him on the edge and slowly lowers the rest of him to sit. He needs a moment after that.

His heart beats like it will give out any second, and he shivers despite the warm water rippling by his ankles. The chamber is blessedly still and relaxed now that Sidon has left for elsewhere. Link should get back to work, get back to preparing everything for Ganon, but… He needs a moment to breathe after such a harrowing encounter. Link worries he's sewn his terrible fate for when Ganon leaves by acting so coldly towards Sidon. But… ever since this morning, while speaking so casually with Ganon, a thought has chased its tail in Link’s mind.

He wants to return to Gerudo Valley with Ganon. The desire is ridiculous as it is fantastic. The man holds no lust for him, no kindness beyond pity. What in the realms would Ganon even do with him? He is in no need of a page. Link knows that much. Ganon bosses him around, but when Link thinks to do things for him out of kindness, Ganon recoils. He is not one to accept kindness like that. And besides menial tasks like fetching dinner or drawing a bath, Ganon would probably leave him to his own devices. And Link knows Ganon hates nosy and lazy people.

Given unstructured time like that, Link knows he would wander Ganon’s house and property. Probably find trouble. And causing trouble would only rouse Ganon’s temper, which Link would rather never do. Then again… maybe Ganon would find amusement in his curiosity and exploration. Link holds his head in his hands as he imagines it all. Ganon smiles and laughs at him more in the fantasy than he does in real life. But… haven't they grown on each other? Don't their conversations flow like bass down the stream? Ganon reads him so easily, and Link in return. They are… friends.

Sighing, Link shoves himself to his feet before turning the water back on. The tub is not yet clean, and Sidon’s visit has stolen precious time. Link stands over the drain and waits for the last swirl of dirty water to vanish. Once that's done, he plugs the drain. He will leave the bath to fill while fetching and eating dinner. Unlike Sidon, Ganon welcomes—well, orders—him to share in company and food. Link doubts he's ever eaten this well before. It’s something he’ll miss, and Link climbs out of the tub with a heavy heart.

It will all end, soon, and his soul will always wonder “what if?” He'll think of Ganon and that alternate dimension where he’d left the manor until the idea sours. He'll think of it until the last moment when he can no longer. Ganon’s voice will fade from his ear, his scent from Link’s nose. Link rubs his upper arm through his sleeve while thinking about it all. His heart aches like when Sidon is cross with him, like he's full of water and his insides smash his heart against his ribs. Link straightens out his clothes and then numbly goes about fetching dinner for two. Hopefully Ganon won't notice his long face.

“What happened?”

Link glances up from setting the little table in Ganon’s room.

“Pardon?”

Dressed in an old shirt and the linen pants he favors, Ganon eyes him from one of the chairs. His knee is close enough for Link to reach out and touch.

“What happened? You were like a little foal showing me the bath downstairs earlier. You've gone quiet and shy. Withdrawn. So what happened?”

Teacups click together as Link sets them to their rightful places. He'd found a tea in the pantry Ganon likes—sometime during his first week with them—and now knows how the Gerudo takes it. Milk and a twig of vanilla and cinnamon each with the reddish tea. Ganon had bought the vanilla and cinnamon himself, hell-bent on making the cheap tea served here palatable. Or so he'd said. Link drinks said cheap tea, mostly because he's used to it and won't waste the one Ganon tolerates. Link distracts himself from Ganon’s questions by making their cups. When he turns the teacup’s handle towards Ganon, a black hand reaches out to catch him. Ganon’s fingers rest lightly on the inside of Link’s wrist. His palm cradles the rest. The barest tips of Ganon’s fingers brush over the blue veins under his skin. Link shivers.

“What. Happened.”

Emerald eyes, narrow with suspicion, capture his. Ganon coaxes the truth out of him this way—with hard eyes and a gentle touch.

“Lord Ruta discovered me preparing the bath downstairs. He…  meant to apologize with some of Lady Ruta’s tulips and a sour attitude.”

Ganon snorts at that.

“Not that, um… not that he knew they were her flowers. But he wanted me to come to him tonight, but…”

“It wouldn't be wise.”

Link shakes his head and shifts his hand under Ganon’s. Before Ganon withdrawals, Link holds lightly to his fingers. Ganon’s twitch in his, but remain.

“I… told him no. That I promised my services to you tonight. He misconstrued my words, either on accident or on purpose. I suppose he thinks I'm… That you and I…”

A single, nasty laugh barks out Ganon’s mouth. He means to laugh at Sidon, but Link’s heart withers anyway.

“The moment someone takes his pretty doll away, he turns into a tantruming child. Ridiculous.”

Ganon likes that, to call him pretty. It’s a compliment he means genuinely, and the word never carries a hint of scorn. When Ganon says it, Link understands the word and knows what it means to be pretty. Ganon makes him believe it.

Nodding a little, Link murmurs, “Hopefully he won’t disturb you while you bathe. I will stand guard outside, so if you need anything, um…”

Ganon pauses while serving himself from the tray Link had carried up. He aims a cocked eyebrow Link’s way when Link’s soft voice trails off.

“Stand guard? Like a dog?”

“Well…”

Link flushes as Ganon snorts at him.

“You don’t have to stand around. I can tend to myself.”

Biting back a smile, Link points out, “If memory serves me, it was you who told me you slip in the bath across the hall. And you’ll be drinking tonight. My Lord would have my neck if you slipped and hurt yourself.”

The comment about Sidon’s hands on him floats over both of them. Ganon grumbles at him while flicking mixed greens onto his plate with a bit more force than necessary.

“Think that’s funny, do you?”

“Not at all,” Link says while finally sitting. He has to hide a smile behind his hair.

“If you’re going to be standing around, you may as well do it inside. I guess,” Ganon forces out through a frown. A glimmer lights his deep eyes, though, so Link knows he’s in good spirits. “When will it be ready?”

“When we’re finished up here, if you want. I just need to run and get the wine.”

Ganon jerks his fork towards Link’s plate.

“Eat. I’ll not have you passing out from hunger and the steam.”

Link tries not to allow his mind to wander as they dig in. But… Ganon’s offer of Link attending to him… The most he’s seen of Ganon is just his upper body as Ganon changes clothes. Of course, Ganon had caught him staring that first day. The image of muscles, stomach, and all that red body hair burns into Link’s mind. He no longer has to even be near Ganon to conjure images of him. And now he’s slept bedside Ganon, felt his stomach shift with each breath and fill up the curve of his back.

Of course, Link hadn’t enjoyed sleeping facing away from Ganon at first. It had taken until the second or third time together for Link to discover that joy. Ganon had been warm and soft against his back, arm perfectly heavy to comfort him but not trap him. When Ganon scoops him up in the evening and dumps him in bed, they don't touch at all. At first. As they toss in their sleep, they find each other. Link wakes in the morning with Ganon’s body surrounding him. Link shivers in his chair while imagining the phantom caress of lips on the back of his neck. How would Ganon’s hand feel splayed out below his navel, hugging him to keep their bodies pressed together? Link jumps at Ganon’s foot nudging him under the table.

“Anyone in there? Or are you ignoring me?”

Blood a little hot now, Link shakes his head just to chase his shiver away.

“I-I’m sorry. I was lost in thought.”

Ganon’s emerald eyes are like a brand on Link’s cheeks. Link tries to bow his head and hide the blush, but it’s too late.

“Oh? Care to share with everyone? Your cheeks are rather pink for someone ‘lost in thought.’”

Link’s blush climbs into his ears, and he nudges Ganon’s foot away from him.

“A gentleman never asks, and a lady never tells.”

Ganon’s foot makes a swift comeback as he laughs, “Oh, so you’re a lady, now?”

“You know what I meant!”

Another hearty chuckle follows on the heels of Link’s outburst. Ganon leaves his foot on Link’s side of the table, and Link allows it. He is mindful with his shoes on. Ganon pries his boots off the moment they enter his room and plan to stay longer than a few minutes. He’d told Link that in his house he doesn’t wear shoes. It’s just another bit to add to Link’s fantasy. Such things are difficult to avoid when they share the bed.

Somehow, Link has worked it out that Ganon only has the one bed for himself. Living alone like he does and prone to solitude, why would Ganon’s house have more than one bed? Besides that, the furniture in his home is mostly floor based. Communal. Link hopes that they would just sleep together if he did accompany Ganon back to the valley. Before he falls into more thoughts and gives Ganon more fuel to tease him with, Link catches Ganon between mouthfuls of food.

“Um… Would you like anything else when we go downstairs? I’ll bring the wine around, but…?”

“Hmm… Will you rat me out if I smoke? You’re a stickler for the rules, you know.”

“I do it for my Lady’s comfort,” Link reminds him. “It’s the least I can do when every day here for her is draining. But… yes. You may smoke. There’s a small window for ventilation, and I’ll crack it for you.”

“Grab me a robe, too. And one for yourself.”

Link sits up at that and sets his fork down.

“Why?”

Ganon avoids his gaze at first, staring at the table between them. But when Link doesn’t relax back into the chair, Ganon sighs and eventually looks up at him.

“If you’re going to serve me wine and… attend to me, then you may as well join. No sense in getting your clothes wet from water or sweating through them.”

“Are… are you sure?”

Link blush renews in his cheeks. There’s no hope of it escaping Ganon’s notice this time.

“I just offered you, didn’t I?” His voice is not unkind. But it is firm. “Having you fetch things for me and sort the laundry is one thing. Waiting on me hand and foot in the bath is something I can’t suffer. You’re a human being, not a machine, no matter how Sidon or the others treat you. A relaxing soak would do you some good anyway.”

Link nods at that and blinks hard to move moisture around his eyes. It tries to pool and spill over, but he resists it. He’s not even crying, just… Ganon’s blunt honesty, his kindness, touches Link’s heart. He avoids thinking about how it will be over in a little more than a week’s time. Hestia will return soon. Ganon and Sidon cannot bicker over the contract forever. Link sucks down a calming breath, pushes all that away, and then smiles at Ganon. The Gerudo pauses mid-chew at the sight. Whether it’s because of Link’s shy smile, the wetness in his eyes, or maybe a little bit of everything, Link isn’t sure. For once, he captivates Ganon. And he likes that.

“I will,” he says, voice soft like the coo of a dove. “I will join you. If you’ll have me.”

Ganon mumbles, “As you wish,” before bowing his head and continuing supper.

They finish the food in silence, although it is not a tense silence. Excitement lingers in the air, at least it does to Link, but it’s comfortable. He tries to keep his heart under control as he waits for supper to subside and the bath to begin.


	8. Fondness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In typical me fashion, I cannot resist the temptation to write a bathing scene. What can I say, I love water (said the water sign). Enjoy. Brief warning for alcohol and vomiting because of said alcohol lol. OH Ganon.
> 
> Also, if you like Yu Yu Hakusho and are of the "Hiei getting his brains fucked out" persuasion, may I suggest you read the new story I published. I'm too lazy to hyperlink it, so just click my profile and find it that way. Or don't. Whatever.

“What are you doing?”

Link pauses, naked and facing away from Ganon, with his foot hiked above the steaming water. It had taken much squirming and blushing to get to this point.

“... Getting in?”

Ganon squats on a stool with soap and a rag in his hand. Beside him, a pan sits full of water from the tap.

Rolling his eyes, Ganon nods to the second stool a safe distance away from him.

“You wash before climbing in. That part is the relaxing portion of the bath. Bonding time, relaxing, whatever. Why dirty the whole tub with your filthy body?”

Link’s head shrinks down from his shoulders as he lowers his foot back to the floor.

“I just thought… It’s how I’ve always… ”

Ganon’s stern expression lightens at that.

“This is how we do it back home. Water is precious, so we don’t waste it on dirty skin. Wash yourself here. Then enjoy the water.”

The mean edge drops out of Ganon’s voice now that he knows Link’s misunderstanding. Link nods and scurries to the empty pan sat by the other stool. He fills it with cold water and dumps it on himself as he’d seen Ganon do a moment ago. He realizes his mistake the moment the chilly water stings his skin. Link yelps and nearly drops the pan straight to the ground.

Ganon’s booming laughter helps chase some heat back into his body. His face at least. Link holds himself and shivers while dripping on the floor. His hair is almost soaked through, but he knows he needs another round with the pan to get everything wet. The poor page’s hand shakes terribly as he reaches out for the hot tap first. It runs just on the hot to chase the cold water away before Link turns the other knob. This next dunk with the pan doesn’t sting nearly as hard. Still, lukewarm water on his now chilly skin burns until he adjusts. Fully soaked, Link fills the pan again and shuffles to the other stool. He faces away from Ganon while washing, too ashamed of his body to even sneak a peek at his guest.

“Did you find any wine from a Kakariko vineyard?”

Ganon’s voice bounces off the mosaic walls. Link pauses while washing his hair.

“Y-yes. It’s meant to be served warm, so… I brought it in with us already. I hope that’s okay.”

Splashing preludes Ganon’s warmly murmured, “Yes, yes, that’s fine. Warm wine will go to your head faster, though. So sip with caution.”

“Me?”

The offer surprises Link enough for him to forget some of his shame. He tosses a look over his shoulder towards Ganon despite the suds dipping down his cheeks.

“I… Ganon, I brought it for you…”

“You _assume_ it was only for me.” Ganon doesn't shiver when he dumps the pan of water over himself. His soaked ringlets stick to his upper back. “Horrible manners aside, to steal your words, I've never cast myself as a selfish man. You will probably pass out in my room even without the wine. So why not give you a reason to sleep near me?”

“You say that like it's the worst form of torture,” Link teases back, trying to keep the mood light. “I would return to my room if that were so. Lord Ruta told me himself the first day you were here to save myself and leave you whenever I could. He gave me permission, you could say.”

Ganon hums. Out the corner of his eye, Link watches him stand and wipe the soapy cloth up and down his legs. Link slams his eyes shut as Ganon’s knees bow out to let him wash more intimate areas.

“Ah, and yet I wake almost every morning to you slumped in a chair, the window seat, or even beside me. So why not take advantage of your master’s generous offer?”

The scorn in Ganon’s voice washes away Link’s embarrassment over watching him. Link’s head turns just enough to catch Ganon’s eyes.

“I like spending time with you. Not at first,” he excuses quietly. “But… It's pleasant. In the way that when you pet a cat, sometimes it bites you, but you pet it anyway.”

Ganon’s lips twist into a smirk at that. Before he says anything, Link tacks on something else. These words come out hushed and painfully shy, like he's a child hiding behind Mother's legs.

“I trust you. And I like sleeping next to you. I feel… safe.”

The grin on that thick face turns sober in the slow, sad sort of way a glacier breaks at the edge and crashes into the sea. Ganon frowns thoughtfully at the mosaic floor between them. They're both turned away just enough to hide the important parts. The fantasy of turning towards Ganon and holding his shoulder strikes Link hard enough to make him dizzy. He's thankful for Ganon’s murmured words if only to catch his breath.

“I wish you wouldn't trust me. Or at least trust a little less. Look where trusting kindness has got you.”

Huffing, Link splashes himself one more time to rinse. He's not as clean as Mother could get him, but he's no longer dirty either. He doesn't meet Ganon’s eyes while approaching the sunken edge of the tub. A silver rail leads into the water on this side, and Link grips it with wrinkled fingers while lowering himself. His naked back and rear end are all for Ganon to see, if he even looks. Link doesn't check. To catch Ganon staring at him for once would send him into a frenzy. But to maybe find disgust or disinterest in Ganon’s eyes would cut him deeply. So Link shields his little heart and doesn't look. He plays enough mind games with himself over Ganon and Sidon anyway.

“Trust has kept me alive, kept me in good health.” He sits a bit away from the rail and steps, back facing Ganon. “You and I have become friends thanks to trust. I do not regret that.”

Water splashing over ebony skin and then to the floor is his reply. Link slouches in the tub until the water comes up to his chin. That's not much, considering it laps at his hips while standing. The tips of his bangs graze the water and wet at the split ends like a paintbrush. He wiggles his head a little just to watch the strands dance on the surface.

A shadow stretching across the steaming water catches Link’s attention. But he just as quickly directs his eyes elsewhere. He’d caught a split-second glance of Ganon. All of him. The man has finished washing and now follows in Link’s footsteps into the bath. He grumbles under his breath while holding on to the railing and wading into the water. A breath of air sucked past lips and a wave rising to Link’s nose draws his attention. It’s safe to watch Ganon submerge, kick himself to the other side of the pool, and then come up again. The tub is barely deep enough for a man of his height to do such a thing. But when Ganon pops up and scoops hair and water out of his eyes, Link knows he’d enjoyed it. Ganon’s smirk is all cheek and squinted eyes, no scorn or meanness.

“Friends, hmm?” Ganon references back to Link’s previous statement. “Is that how you feel?”

Picking his head up from the water, Link nods. Ganon sits across the tub from him, arms draped casually across the edge behind him like thick vines along a fence. All that body hair is soaked and clings to Ganon’s skin. It will fluff up and dry soon enough without constant moisture. The humidity from the bath itself will wreak havoc on the poor Gerudo’s hair. Luckily for him, when his arms tire of combing it, Link stands on a chair behind him and finishes the last bits.

The offer had shocked Ganon into open-mouthed silence the first time. Now he just thrusts the comb at Link with a grimace and huff. If Ganon were staying longer—or taking Link home with him—Link wouldn’t mind just combing the man’s hair entirely on his own. He finds joy in performing the service. Also, Ganon is tender headed, and Link enjoys the grumbles and hisses that come out of him during the whole fiasco.

“I’ll drink to that,” he drawls. Ganon gestures with a lazy hand towards the bottle and glasses left near the tub’s edge. “Remember to nurse yours. Can’t have you dunking yourself drunk off your ass.”

Ganon’s sigh sends a ripple out from him, and it laps at the base of Link’s neck. It’s a contented sigh, however. His head lulls back against the tub’s mosaic wall as he shuffles about, relaxing in the water. Link takes that moment when piercing eyes are shut to rise from the water and pour for them. He’d popped the cork on the bottle earlier to allow the wine to aerate. Wine isn’t his forte, so he doesn’t understand _why_ he has to do this. But Sidon fancies wine occasionally, so Link knows the etiquette of such things.

Someone had to teach him fine things like tea preparation, settings, all things wine and hard liquor… It had been such a steep learning curve so shortly after leaving his life on the streets. But now, pouring wine and wading through water without sloshing the glasses comes as easily as breathing. Link hands Ganon his glass as if they’re not stark naked and lounging in a huge tub. Ganon grunts his thanks and, much like with the tea his first day, sniffs the glass first. His eyebrows cock up on his forehead.

“This isn’t the normal swill your master forces on me…” Skeptical eyes dart over to Link, who reclaims his spot across the way. “How did you come by this? I convinced myself Sidon called up bottles for me that could barely pass as latrine run-off…”

Link’s twinkling laughter bounces off the walls and calls up a grin on Ganon’s face. They’ve not yet begun to drink, but already the merriment is out in full force.

“Thought that was funny, did you?”

Link covers his smile with his free hand and holds his wine aloft.

“I don’t think anyone wields spoken language quite the way you do,” Link says from behind his hand. “It’s a bit like Hyrule Castle, I reckon. You have to witness it; hearing about it secondhand doesn’t do it justice.”

Ganon’s smirk deflates into a glare at that comparison. Before he gets his hot tongue going, Link answers his initial question.

“When I asked for a bottle from Kakariko, one of my fellows in the kitchen tried to give me something else. This… ‘latrine wine,’ as you call it.” Link has to pause as Ganon’s expression sours further. He looks rather like a soaked cat, but Link doesn’t have the heart to tell him. “But I knew no matter how much I fussed, they would give me nothing else. I too suspect Lord Ruta has handed down orders on what comes out of the kitchen and brought to you.”

“He’s an ass,” Ganon nearly snarls. “Manners indeed. He’d swallow his tongue if I mentioned this little scheme of his.”

“Perhaps. But… Well, I know just enough about the bottles and the marks on them to know which come from Kakariko. I recognize one of the…” Link pauses and chews on his lip a bit. “It’s not a stamp, but I imagine that’s how it’s done when the glass is still soft enough to dent. However that’s done. But I recognized one of the symbols on that bottle, and it’s the mark of a vineyard in Kakariko. So…”

Link waits and watches while Ganon tips the glass back towards his mouth. Link is eternally thankful that Ganon closes his eyes to savor the wine. The man affords Link the opportunity to stare and devour the sight of him without shame. The bob of Ganon’s throat as he swallows draws his eye, and Link swallows to reciprocate the motion. The water in the bath is a bit cloudy from salts and other things he’d added as they entered earlier. That will cover up any… reaction he has to the sight of Ganon truly enjoying himself. Link makes sure to direct his eyes away from black skin and red hair when Ganon finishes draining the glass. Link hadn't poured him much—too used to pouring for tasting rather than actual indulging.

Ganon curls a finger towards himself and says, “May as well bring the bottle to me and leave it over here. I'll have it polished off soon enough. You nicked it, so we should finish it and do away with the evidence.”

“Lord Ruta won't notice.”

Link says as much while trying to stand and not flash Ganon as he retrieves the open bottle. The water is hip-high on him, but he's sure Ganon can still see something.

“Not worth the trouble of hearing him whine about it. Directly or otherwise.” Ganon sits up a bit and casts a glance where Link stands near the bottle. “Are my cigarettes over there?”

Link sets down his glass rather than reply. He cradles Ganon’s case and box of matches in one hand. The other tightly grips the neck of the wine bottle. He's no hand left to catch himself should he trip and pitch himself into the bath. He waddles a little to make sure of that. Ganon snorts at his careful, tiny steps. He sits up farther still and holds a hand out to take something from Link, whatever he'd like to pass on first.

It's the wine bottle, since Ganon could probably go without a cigarette. Link offers him the case next, but keeps the matches. Dutiful as always, he strikes one once Ganon wedges a filter between his lips and snaps the case closed. He mumbles his thanks while Link cups his hand around the match and lights the cigarette for him. Ganon holds his hand palm up to finally take the matches from him, too. They end up on the floor of the chamber with the bottle. The edge of the sunken tub is distant enough that nothing should get knocked in or splashed. Hopefully.

“Can't believe you actually nabbed this bottle for us,” Ganon says through smoke blowing past his lips. He grins through the cloud and adds, “What other deviance are you capable of that I've not yet discovered?”

Link shrugs while reclaiming his seat yet again. The idea crosses his mind to just sit beside Ganon, but he abandons it for now.

“Lord Ruta instructed me your first day here to serve you however I can. And you requested a certain wine. I reckon I'm well within his orders and that my fellows in the kitchen were as well. Whatever Lord Ruta’s orders to them may be. My duty to you is above them, though.”

“Oh? You would break the rules for me?”

Blushing a little, Link mumbles, “I already have.”

He pointedly stares at Ganon’s cigarette. Ganon directs the end over his shoulder, ashing onto the floor rather than into the water.

“Indeed.”

Link slumps down a bit to warm his shoulders with the water. His hair close to his scalp starts to dry already. He would go under to wet everything again, but he doesn't fancy sleeping with wet hair. Or setting aside his wine. Ganon’s advice to drink it slowly comes to mind when the alcohol laps like a wave against his lips. Ganon has already poured for himself, more generously than Link had, and nurses the glass between drags of his cigarette. Silence blankets them except for the occasional drip from the tap or splash from them moving.

Ganon cranes an arm back to stamp out his cigarette against his case and then leaves the filter nearby. Link tries to remember to clean that up before they leave. He can't imagine they'll spend too much longer here. Shoulders up by his ears, he blinks down at the remaining wine in his glass. How is this supposed to be relaxing? They're not doing anything. And the silence has a note of suffocation in it. Link tosses a desperate glance up to Ganon. Their shared silence upstairs is so easy, so why is this difficult? Ganon eyes the tense line of Link’s shoulders and frowns a bit.

“You look like you're about to have a fit. What's wrong?”

“I… what should I be doing? I feel like I'm neglecting something.”

“Have you never just sat in a bath before and enjoyed the peace?”

Link shakes his head.

Sighing, Ganon reaches back for the wine and then jerks his head, beckoning Link to him.

“For starters, come here. There's no need to sit as far away from me as you can. I've not strangled you yet, there's little chance of me doing it right now.”

That brings a smile to Link’s face and douses some of the shame burning bright in his cheeks. He could blame the flush in his face and ears on the bath. Ganon might even believe him. Link lurches forward, off the platform they sit on. Rather than bob around the edge of the tub, he steps directly across to Ganon’s side. His first instinct is to plop down right at Ganon’s hip and lean into him. Link even smiles with excitement bubbling in him before the rest of him catches up. This isn't Sidon. He and Ganon… are friends. Just friends. Link shivers despite the hot water when he realizes he'd almost just cuddled up to Ganon and kissed his cheek. Link wrestles with that desire even as he sits an appropriate distance away from Ganon. The click of the wine bottle lightly striking the lip of his glass startles Link.

“Relax,” Ganon says, like it’s that easy. ”Don’t think about your duties or your master or… any other stress in your life right now. Lean back, close your eyes, and just breathe.”

“I don’t think I can do that,” Link says into his glass.

The dull _thunk_ of the wine bottle touching back down on the floor echoes in the chamber. Ganon holds his glass in his right hand. The left, right next to Link, lies somewhere below the surface.

“No?” Ganon turns to him a little with his glass topped off. “You really are high strung. Shall we ply you with this halfway-decent wine and see where the night goes?”

Link laughs into his glass next and takes a big gulp. He wheezes a bit as he speaks, alcohol vapors making him choke.

“Not… not if you drink it all first.”

Ganon’s warm chuckle tickles along Link’s upper arm and shoulder, slithers into his ear, and then wraps around his brain. He blames the wine and warm water. Plying him indeed. None of this—the flirting, the smiles, the way Ganon softens some when Link confesses ignorance—would be happening if not for that night. The night everything Ganon had snapped at him came true, and he’d come crawling back to Ganon to admit at much. If only he’d been able to calm his nerves and sleep in the bed alone. But no. He had to beg Ganon’s company, curl up with the huge man behind him, and delicately hold Ganon’s hand to his stomach as they slept. And then! When given the opportunity to not repeat such foolish things, had Link resisted? No! He’d fallen straight into this mess and now has no one but himself to blame for the warm fluttering in his stomach. It will linger long after Ganon leaves.

Ganon’s thick shoulder brushes his and startles Link out of his melancholy.

“If you can't relax in silence, then talk to me. Distract yourself from your strife.”

“What should I, um, say?”

Ganon shrugs and births a brief ripple that splashes on Link’s arm.

“Whatever will take your mind off things. Talk about yourself, if you want. I've told you a little about me, but I know only fractured pieces of you. Things you've said in passing and such.”

Ganon shuffles beside him after that and finally drapes his left arm back up on the tub’s edge. Link presses his lips to the rim of his glass in order to not bite himself. This feels a bit like when Ganon holds him, honestly. Ganon’s skin is warm along the upper shelf of Link’s shoulders. Whether Ganon intends to touch him or not is unclear to Link. If Link relaxed and tilted his head back, Ganon’s arm would make a wonderful cushion. He wants too, but too much embarrassment roots him to where he sits. He'd slip under completely to escape if not for Ganon’s softly proposed idea. Ganon surely doesn't want to sit here and listen to him prattle on. Does he?

“I… don't want to bore or annoy you with all that.”

“Would I allow talking if I thought you would annoy me with it? It's clear the concept of relaxing and just existing without a care for a moment is beyond you.” Ganon shrugs again. “So talk. Even when you're upset and tell me about it, you eventually calm down. You're tense right now, like when something plagues your mind.”

“Sorry.”

Ganon nudges him again, but this time with his arm grazing the back of Link’s head.

“Enough of that. Tell me about something pleasant. Or tell me about something you like. Maybe I'll learn a thing or two.”

Link sips from his glass—although the sip borders on a gulp as he drains a quarter of it in one go—and considers Ganon’s suggestion. He could… retell stories of his childhood. He still clings to a few memories despite most of them already fading. As Link reflects on his life at home, the thirteen years he’d spent there… Nothing of note comes to mind. His destiny would have been to gradually take over more responsibilities from his parents as egg farmers, care for them as they aged, maybe marry and have children, and then… pass away like his parents. Running away with his head full of dreams of adventure and excitement had split that road of destiny. Now he’s here, and yet the things he could tell Ganon are shameful. Disgusting. Living in the manor is better than living on the street, but his status so near to Sidon only bestows him scorn, but he doesn’t ask for it, he just wants to be treated fairly, he—

A warm hand cups the back of his head, and Ganon murmurs, “Breathe.”

Ganon leaves his hand there even when Link sucks in a wet, deep breath. The wine in his glass jumps around a bit as his hand shakes around the stem. Too scared of dumping the wine into the bath, Link downs the rest and then offers the empty glass to Ganon. Ganon must set his down first to take Link’s empty. Ganon does not refill Link’s glass, simply leaves it by the bottle and his cigarettes. Once that’s all done, he still doesn’t drop his hand from Link’s head. Link shivers under the warmth and pressure while breathing.

Had he truly spiraled that much that Ganon picked up on him panicking? Perhaps Ganon had even said his name or tried to pry him out of his own mind. It had taken the caress to the back of his head to spring Link from his mental prison. Link glances up at Ganon in the dim light of the chamber. Lights in the walls flicker and hiss lowly with their gas, bestowing just enough light to make the room cozy. Ganon regards him with an eyebrow cocked high. With nothing to lose and his insides still a mess, Link leans until his head rests on Ganon’s chest.

No one moves after that. The pair of them barely breathe as Link settles against Ganon’s side. He’s not quite tucked under the man’s arm. Ganon would have to bring his left arm down, and it’s still frozen in the air where he’d held Link’s head. It’s not a good sign to Link, so he presses his burning cheek hard to Ganon’s skin, desperate to soak up this encounter and keep it forever.

The arm behind him shifts after a moment. Link is sure Ganon is about to shove him away, tease him for his sentimentality. His weakness. But thick fingers tangle in the hair above his ear and a rough palm brushes against the cartilage. Link jumps against Ganon’s side, his heart flipping like he’s missed a step going down, and then slowly tilts his head up to catch Ganon’s eyes. They already watch him. No scorn, no disgust narrows them.

“Shall I talk instead? Perhaps it would be easier that way.”

Link nods against black skin and curly body hair before huddling closer and closing his eyes. Ganon’s hand is gentle in his hair as he talks. With one ear pressed tightly to Ganon’s chest, Link both hears and feels the rumble of his voice. Link learns his first name is actually Ganondorf, but it's a mouthful for Hylians, so he shortens it. When asked if he'd like Link to use his proper name, Ganon snorts at him. Ganon also tells him about the grassland near the edge of his property, how the moisture and green attracts animals. Hardy, desert does and their buck. A family of wild hogs mills about them, safety in numbers. He sits at the front of his house sometimes, smoking in the frigid morning, and watches them stalk through the fog.

An old, dried up river bed is a short distance away. Ganon tells him that you can scratch at the ground with a walking stick and find fossils and old shells. At one point, the desert had been lush and plentiful in water and shade. Hylian historians disregard these claims, but it’s common knowledge amongst the Gerudo. Ganon laughs over that while swirling fresh wine in his glass. He tries to offer some to Link, but Link turns him down with a little shake of his head. He’d rather lean against Ganon and listen to him talk all night.

He gets his wish long past Ganon smacking the empty wine bottle down and laughing at his own jokes. It doesn’t take nearly that long for Link to relax as Ganon had wanted earlier. But now, Link takes on the task of keeping Ganon upright in the bath. The most Ganon could hope for is for Link to roll him into his back if he fell into the water. At least the Gerudo would float… hopefully. Link knows the night will be lost if Ganon topples over and flounders into the water, smacks his head on the bottom.

Ganon’s hand in Link’s hair has long since slipped to cupping his shoulder. He’s held Link ever since like they’re old friends in a tavern, drinking the night away. Despite the steam of the bath and the wine, Link’s world barely wobbles in front of his eyes. The alcohol clings to him and makes his insides light, makes him giggle easier. But he’s sure of foot when he coaxes Ganon to the railing to get them out. It’s about time he brings Ganon back to his room and bed down for the night.

Ganon laughs into his dry hair while Link guides each of them into their robes—Ganon first. The bath drains sluggishly with the stopper popped by Link just before corralling Ganon out. He'll return sometime tomorrow… or later today, as the clock in the hall strikes two, to clean up. They truly had drunk the night away. Link holds no regrets in his heart. Even when Ganon indulges before bed, he's never this jovial. The bath must have done the trick, must have unwound some sort of spring inside him. Despite their stumbling and Ganon leaning heavily on him as they trudge up the stairs, Link can't fight the smile in his face. His cheeks hurt by the time he rests Ganon against the wall outside his guest room. When Ganon’s knees give a threatening wobble, Link flattens him to the wall with both hands on his chest.

“Stay there,” Link laughs. “If you wish to acquaint yourself with the floor so badly, please keep in mind you will be there until morning. I won't be able to pick you up with just my strength.”

Ganon’s huge hands rise up and cup Link’s upper arms. He yanks Link to his chest and then goes about holding him tightly. Link’s hands and arms are trapped between them, and Link squeals a little when Ganon nearly lifts him off his toes.

Warm breath tickling his ear, Link giggles quietly, “Ganon, please, we’re nearly back in your room. I can't open the door with you holding me like this.”

The wide chest under his hands vibrates as Ganon hums into his hair. His hands flatten on Link’s back—one between his shoulders and one in the dip of his spine. His fingers are a gentle, light pressure over Link’s robe. Link shivers and can't help but rub his cheek over the thin material of Ganon’s robe. His clean, dry chest hair scratches on the other side of it. Link’s stomach jumps as he wonders how he will ever convince Ganon’s loose limbs into a nightshirt. Or at least some trousers. They can't sleep in these robes, and Link refuses to leave the man alone. His heart would break into pieces if he returns to Ganon in the morning, only to discover the Gerudo had suffocated himself sometime in the night. One of Link’s uncles had almost passed like that, but luckily his wife had woken to him trying to heave while on his back.

Link sighs and makes another attempt to extract himself. Ganon’s hand between his shoulders slips up, though, to cup the back of his head. Link’s struggling comes to a halt, and he tips his head up to meet blurry, green eyes.

“Ganon?”

His eyes slowly shut after Link’s hushed question. Ganon cranes his head forward, and for a moment, Link worries he’ll either fall or be sick right here. Instead, Ganon urges Link’s head closer at the same time until their skin meets. It's not quite a kiss, but Ganon’s lips and chin rest lightly against Link’s forehead. The prick of Ganon’s facial hair almost stings on such thin skin. Ganon’s exhale, more like a sigh, blows warm, wet air through Link’s blond locks. They need a brush before they retire. He ought to comb Ganon’s hair, too. Otherwise, they'll wake tomorrow with rat nests on their heads.

Link entertains Ganon breathing in the scent of him and holding him tenderly for a few more seconds. Alcohol and their shared closeness this night has set something free in Ganon. And Link cannot deny that he finds great joy and comfort between the Gerudo’s arms. However, they have things to attend to before sleeping. And Ganon holding him in a drunken stupor like this just delays Link’s duties. Link wiggles out from under the heavy weight of Ganon’s head, ignoring how Ganon’s lips leave moisture on his skin, and shoots the man a little smile.

“Come now. I need to get you into a nightshirt and tend to your hair before we sleep. You'll thank me in the morning.”

Ganon doesn't put up a fight after that. He is quiet as Link sits him down at the table. Emerald eyes track him across the room, never leaving him. Normally, Link squirms under such an intense stare. But no upset lingers in Ganon’s silence. Perhaps he has reached that level of inebriation where even slurred words cannot escape his mouth. Link bites back smiles and laughs at Ganon’s expense as he combs the man’s hair. The thick, butter-like cream he uses to soften the ringlets makes them moderately easier to comb. But not by much. Link mostly keeps an eye out for mats trying to form and then gently picks them apart.

He will have to sweep tomorrow morning after combing Ganon’s hair yet again. As he walks around to check on his guest, he finds Ganon still awake, although relaxed from the combing. He would melt into the chair and spill to the floor if his body would give in and become liquid. Link covers a smile with his hand and then makes for the chested drawers. He needs a fresh nightshirt for Ganon. He gets as far as opening the drawer when a shadow falls over him.

“Mmm?”

Thick arms wrap around his waist, haul him up against Ganon’s chest, and then spin them around. Link gives a few feeble kicks as Ganon carries him awkwardly away from the chested drawers. He thinks for a moment Ganon means to dump him in the hallway, but they make for the bed instead. Link holds on to the arms around his waist even as Ganon tries to let him go. Link’s feet barely touch the floor at the edge of the bed frame before Ganon’s warm hands push him.

Link lands on his chest, laugh already bubbling out of him. He bounces a few times from Ganon’s shove. It's all good and fun, and Ganon’s playfulness lightens Link’s heart further. Ah, so this is all Ganon had wanted. The man must be more eager for sleep than Link had thought. He must want Link with him in the bed tonight rather than dance around Link eventually ending up beside him. Link rolls onto a hip and is ready to shoot Ganon a smile when the mattress sinks by his shins.

Link’s smile softens some as Ganon crawls up and straddles him legs. A hand on Link’s shoulder coaxes him fully around until he lies on his back. Link’s heart uses that opportunity to kick into higher gear as he takes in how compromising their positions are. Ganon’s hand lingers on his shoulder, keeping him flat to the bed. Link barely feels his legs move as Ganon gently knocks them apart and then kneels between them. His other hands sink into the duvet under them, allowing him to hover above Link and watch him. Link’s breaths are too loud in his ears, heartbeat too hard in his fingertips. Link opens his mouth to question where Ganon’s mind is, but a hand cradling his cheek stops him.

They stare at each other in the dim light of one gas lamp for a moment. Link holds his breath without thinking about it. His mind doesn't have the space in it right now to keep him breathing or blinking. It's too full of Ganon and the sight of him, the warmth of a heavy body above him and a gentle hand at his cheek. A full week has passed since Sidon’s attack on him, and he craves this closeness. No shame or ugliness sullies this moment between them. Again, the urge for Ganon to hold him and kiss him seizes Link so hard that he shocks himself into breathing. The loud gasp of his inhale must startle Ganon out of his stupor, too. The man lowers himself to his elbows, caging Link in with his arms and head.

Link won't look away, can't look away from the texture of Ganon’s skin, from the flecks of gold in Ganon’s irises. Their breaths mix as they each resort to breathing through their mouths, lips slightly parted. Everything below Link’s navel tightens and quivers as he wiggles a hand between them to hold Ganon’s jaw like he'd done seconds ago. Link’s thumb strokes over thick facial hair, shifting the skin over the firm bone beneath. Link doesn't bother to pick his head up as he guides Ganon down to him and press a delicate, breakable kiss to his lips.

Some combination of the dark, alcohol, and their closeness tonight makes him bold enough for this. He almost never reaches to kiss Sidon first. But he wants this, and he holds fast to Ganon’s jaw. The moment their lips press firmly together, Ganon’s nose flattening a bit against Link’s cheek, the Gerudo’s arms give out. Link grunts into their kiss as Ganon’s weight settles on top of him, pinning him to the bed for real. Ganon answers his grunt with a hum and pressing forward. Heart racing, because this can't be real, this can't be happening, Link pulls back from their kiss to catch Ganon’s eyes. Had Ganon meant to kiss him back? It must be a mistake.

But when Link separates them, Ganon frowns down at him. Said frown looks distinctly like a pout, but Link isn't sure. They breathe together for a few seconds before Ganon nudges against Link’s hand at his jaw, wanting down. Link stops holding him back and expects Ganon will come to his senses now and realize what Link has done. Ganon sinks down perhaps a bit harder than he means to, because their next kiss has the edges of Link’s teeth biting into his lips.

“Mmm!”

Ganon angles his head in the opposite direction this time. He lingers long enough to swallow Link’s surprised hum before backing off, meeting his eyes, and then darting down again. Link already has his lips parted for the next kiss and groans at the warm tongue that traces the gap between them. Ganon’s tongue is bigger than his—Ganon’s everything is bigger than his. Their breathless kisses are so distant from everything he knows about kissing. He's only ever kissed Sidon like this, and the only way it compares is that there are two mouths involved.

Beyond that, the taste of Ganon is different, the way he coaxes Link into kissing him back is different. Link’s heart and stomach battle for which can jump more as Link throws his arms around Ganon’s neck. That rips a loud moan out of Ganon, but it never makes it past their lips crashing and slipping together. When Ganon grows tired of chasing Link’s lips and tongue with his, he tears them apart. The moan he buries in the side of Link’s neck lets him know it's not over, that he's done nothing wrong.

Link’s nails dig through the thin material of Ganon’s robe and sink into his back. He lies under Ganon with his legs only parted a little, like he's sleeping. But at the twitch of Ganon’s hips forward, rutting against him, Link throws them open. Ganon’s hips are wider than Sidon’s, but Link clings to them all the same. That opens him up and welcomes Ganon’s weight between his legs. He blushes into Ganon’s loose hair at the way his needy erection presses hot and bossy to Ganon’s stomach. Ganon will surely push him away, now. This should disgust him. But Ganon’s breaths roar in his ear between kisses to his neck, and Link can do nothing but stare up at the ceiling, confused. Drowning in excitement and pleasure, but confused.

A little nudge from his ankles in Ganon’s back gets him moving, and soon they rock together in a mockery of lovemaking. Link ignores how his nails will leave marks under Ganon’s robe and carves him up like he would if they were fucking. The pain spurs Ganon on, and the heat Link had mistaken as Ganon’s thigh ruts hard in the crease where body and leg. Link shudders and whimpers into Ganon’s hair at the heavy feel of him. He's aroused, aroused! Link had done that to him, had made him feel this way!

Ganon’s hips stop on a dime, and he sits up a little. Link breathes hard and fast under him, stomach heaving. Why… Why had Ganon stopped? It’d felt perfect, amazing, so why? Perhaps he’d mistaken Link’s whimper as one of pain? Link squeezes Ganon’s hips with his thighs, but to no avail. Link’s face falls a little when he finds the pinched look on Ganon’s face in the dark. Link unwinds a hand from Ganon’s robe to hold his jaw, to smooth out thick lines in his face. Ganon’s eyes meet his, and some of this disgust drops from around his mouth. His lips are bruised from their kisses, and his hair is messy from Link holding him. The skin beneath Link’s hand is feverish from Ganon’s blush. He's still hard under his robe, material tented almost comically. That all reassures Link, but he's not sure why.

“Link,” Ganon says quietly, voice like a soft breeze. “Would you kindly find something for me to be sick in? Please?”

When Link just lies there, staring up at him, some of the aroused flush pales out of Ganon’s cheeks and he adds, “Quickly.”

Link nearly kicks Ganon in the ribs in his haste to throw himself off the bed. He pays no mind to Ganon sitting up and covering his mouth with a hand. Emerald eyes, watery and blinking fast, watch him as he scurries to the little table where they eat. A large bowl once containing the salad they'd eaten remains along with some bread and their dirty plates. Link thanks his past self for not tidying up after they'd finished. Link snatches the bowl and jumps back to the nightstand near Ganon’s hunched form. The dull _thunk_ of the ceramic striking the wood is all the signal Ganon needs to know everything is ready. Link steps away the split second the poor man lilts onto one hip and then vomits.

Link jumps at the gore of it, dark red wine spilling from Ganon’s mouth like blood. His own stomach threatens to mimic Ganon, so Link busies himself with holding the Gerudo’s hair back. No sense in getting it dirty when they'd just finished bathing. Link casts a desperate glance over his shoulder as Ganon heaves again. The pitcher of water he'd brought them sits half full on the table. He spies the bread again, too, and already forms a plan. Once Ganon gives him the go ahead to step back, he'll fetch both for the man and help him clean up.

“Fucking hell,” Ganon wheezes when he finally manages a breath. He takes a few more between spitting into the bowl. “Fucking hell.”

“Shall I fetch someone for you?”

Ganon shakes his head, hair still caught in Link’s fingers.

“No, no, none of that.”

He sits up then, and Link reluctantly steps away, too. Ganon’s hair twirls through Link’s fingers and then falls to his shoulders. He shoves it out of his face with a shaky hand.

“I needed that. Would have woken up face down and dead if not. Drank too much too quickly.”

Link nods and reaches for the poor bowl. His stomach clenches hard as he tries not to look into the abyss sloshing around. He even holds his breath. Delivering the bowl safely away from them back to the table, Link pours a glass of water. He snatches a heel of bread, too. Ganon’s lips twist at the sight of either of them, but Link holds them out anyway. He won't rest until Ganon at least drinks the water.

“Should have left the bowl,” Ganon complains before swishing water around his mouth. He swallows with a grimace. “Tastes like something died and rotted in my mouth.”

“Do you… Do you think you'll be ill again?”

Ganon considers Link over the rim of the glass.

“I doubt it. And if I do, I'll heave over the side of the bed. I'll clean all this up in the morning.”

He gestures to the room as a whole. Even the floor, which has yet to suffer Ganon’s furious stomach.

Link shakes his head, still standing at Ganon’s knee, and says, “No, I will. Don't trouble yourself.”

“No trouble,” Ganon says gently. He knocks another gulp of water back before tearing at the bread. At least it will get the taste of vomited wine out of his mouth. “Shame. That wasn't bad wine.”

His speech still slurs, but the fire has snuffed out in his eyes. Link betrays himself and can't resist checking to see if Ganon is still hard. He's not. Link hadn't expected him to somehow maintain an erection through all that. Link thinks to fetch some ginger tea to settle Ganon’s stomach, but then he berates himself. Ganon isn't ill. It'd been the alcohol. Too much too quickly, he'd said. Link has never downed more than a glass at one time in his whole life, and certainly not like he's seen Ganon and Sidon do.

Vomiting must have relieved some of Ganon’s… inebriation. He's still a little drunk, wobbling on his rear as he fights to remain sitting up. But he's not as drunk as before… when they'd kissed and rutted against each other. Link tunes into the chill settling over his chest through the parted opening of his robe. He’s not indecent, but the belt has gone loose. Link jumps and blushes to fix it, tying it tightly to hide himself. When he looks up next, Ganon watches him once more over the rim of the glass.

“Did I hurt you?”

Heart in his throat and choking his words, Link can only shake his head.

Ganon nods and then downs the rest of the water. He hands the glass back to Link, but Link does not turn to replace it on the table. This is the part where Ganon will excuse his behavior as drunken madness. That it doesn't mean anything. That he's sorry. Link grips the glass hard enough to squeak his flesh against it. He doesn't want that. He… he wants Ganon beside him again, their hands in each other’s hair and trading kisses again. He has wanted to kiss Ganon for some time, now. He'd tried not to fantasize about it what with Ganon’s inevitable departure looming over them. But…

“I'm not sorry,” Link whispers, staring at Ganon’s limp hands dangling between his naked knees. Link picks his head up to meet open, vulnerable eyes. “I… could have stopped you at any time. I wanted you. Want you, rather.”

“I shouldn't have,” Ganon immediately fires back. No heat laces his words, but Link hears his regret.

Risking it all, Link sits beside him and takes Ganon’s left hand in his. The glass ends up at his feet, set there in a split second just to free his hands. Ganon’s fingers twitch, perhaps ready to throw Link away. But Link laces their fingers together and holds on tightly.

“Maybe, but… you did. And I wanted you to. I know how you feel about me, about things like this, and--”

“You don't,” Ganon cuts him off.

His fingers finally move again, and to Link’s surprise, they curl around his palm and hold on. When Ganon speaks again, he does so while staring at the floor, voice almost lost in his chest.

“You have no idea, the fondness that lies in my heart for you.”

Trying to keep the warble out of his voice, Link sits up straight and takes even, deep breaths.

“Oh? When… when did you discover such fondness?”

Ganon’s thumb pets the back of his hand as he says, “The night we fought. When you came back and I held you while you cried. To hear such a sound from you… it broke my heart.”

“I'm sorry,” Link says while leaning his head on Ganon’s upper arm. “I… I didn't mean for you to feel this way. I would have gladly gone on and held my feelings for you in silence. I'm still not completely sure what I feel for you. But…”

“It's rather hopeless, isn't it?”

Link tilts his head up and meets Ganon’s eyes.

“Yes,” he whispers. “I've never felt such a thing before. Awful sadness that makes me want to run away again. But also happiness like I've never felt before. You make me feel that way.”

Ganon’s right hand crosses over his body to hold Link’s cheek.

“This morning, when you proposed I take you home with me. You weren't joking.”

Link’s stomach drops out at that. He'd hoped Ganon forgot about that conversation. Clearly, that isn't so. Link shakes his head in Ganon’s hand rather than risk his weak voice. Ganon’s lips thin into a line. Link remembers the fantasy that had possessed him while thinking about that. Had Ganon done the same? Had he inserted Link into his routine, placed Link at his side like the page was always there? Link’s next breath rattles in his mouth as he fights a tight ball of emotion in his throat. Please, please don't deny him, now. Don't dash his dreams to the rocks and call them ridiculous. Idiotic. Hopeless he can take, but nothing more. Link swallows hard and closes his eyes just before Ganon’s hand slips away.

“We should sleep. I'm not sure about you, but I know I will wake with a terrible headache come morning.”

Link scrambles at the sleeve of Ganon’s robe before the man even turns away.

“Wait… Please kiss me again.”

Ganon frowns and opens his mouth, probably to object, but Link tugs on his robe to stop him.

“Please, no matter where you moralities lie on the matter. Just… please. If you wake in the morning and can't stand to be near me for the remainder of your stay, I just want to kiss you. At least once while you're not…”

“About to vomit on you?”

He is ever a brute. Link resists rolling his eyes.

“Yes, that. Please?”

Some of Ganon’s usual snark sneaks back into his face. He cocks an eyebrow up at Link while murmuring, “I probably taste particularly foul, now.”

“It… It doesn’t have to be like before,” Link objects with a blush. “Just… a little kiss.”

Ganon hums at that and sits still a second longer. He moves in eventually, but not to kiss Link. His hands get Link about his hips and haul him up the bed. Link’s robe comes loose again, and he wiggles in Ganon’s hands to fix it. Ganon stills one of his hands, stopping him from fixing the robe. Ganon leaves one hand on Link’s hip, watching him from above, before flicking at the knot Link had tied. The edges of Link’s robe struggle to keep him decent, but Link rebels at that. He little hop of his hips throws the robe open more, revealing the pale, peach expanse of his skin. Without Sidon picking and plucking at him, he’s regrown some of the hairs on his chest. The hair on his thighs and between his legs is full again, too. He hasn’t bothered to tend to it, intent on avoiding Sidon for as long as possible. As long as he can.

A snort pops out of Ganon before he murmurs thickly, “So you do have body hair.”

Fussing a little under Ganon’s stare and hands, Link says, “Of course I do. I’m not a child.”

One of Ganon’s hands, the one not holding his hip, twitches to close Link’s robe again. Link stops him, rests his fingers on Ganon’s wrist.

“I… I don’t mind, um… sleeping naked beside you.” Some of Link’s bangs fall into his eyes, and he doesn’t bother to nudge them away. “I want you to look at me.”

“Hellion” Ganon murmurs down at him, voice bordering on an incoherent purr.

Emboldened by this, Link releases Ganon’s wrist only to tug lightly at the belt of Ganon’s robe. The edges are spread and messy from them lying together. The belt, stubborn and infuriating, is tight.

“You, too. I… I want to look at you, too. You think I’m pretty and… well…” Link pouts about admitting this, but tonight is the night to reveal all. Literally and figuratively. “One of my first thoughts about you was how handsome you are. So please?”

Ganon’s mouth thins into a line. However, his eyes bore into Link with a certain heat Link has never seen in them. Until now. Sidon looks at him like that, only with a pinch or two of madness mixed in. Sidon’s stare scares him a bit. Probably because he occupies the unique position of knowing exactly what Sidon does to people on the receiving end of that stare. But with Ganon… No, thoughts of Ganon and what **Ganon** would do to someone on the receiving end of that stare excite him. Link tugs again on the belt of Ganon’s robe, even throws in a little whine to urge him on. Ganon snorts at him. With a slick smirk, he bats Link’s bossy hand away and then yanks at the knot himself.

“You are an insufferable brat.”

Link shrugs the rest of the way out of robe and says with a smile, “What else?”

Ganon says nothing to that, and the smirk on his lips softens into a smile. Link bets no one else in the manor could even see it on Ganon’s stern face. But it’s obvious to him, and he greedily takes it. He welcomes himself to Ganon’s skin in the same fashion. The robe slips off him and pools on the floor at his feet. Link curses the low light the single, gas lamp offers. He barely sees anything of Ganon before the man hikes a knee up and lies back down.

Link rolls onto his side to receive Ganon. The duvet and sheets wrinkle under them as they shift around. He means to hold Ganon or at least wrap the Gerudo’s arms around him. Ganon tries to push Link onto his back again. Link isn’t having it. He repays Ganon’s earlier kisses to his neck. The hum he draws out of the Gerudo tickles Link’s lips. The hand cupping the back of his head does not attempt to restrain or direct. Ganon just holds him to feel him.

“Brat indeed,” Ganon sighs under Link’s teeth. “What was that about a kiss you wanted?”

Link sits up from Ganon’s throat, surprise written in his eyebrows and wide eyes.

“Truly? You’ll indulge me that?”

Ganon says nothing, simply nudges Link’s head up with the hand in his hair, and gives him the kiss he wants. Link keeps his eyes open this time. A laugh bubbles out of him soon after, since he must cross his eyes to keep Ganon in focus. Ganon snorts in his chest and ends that kiss almost as soon as it’d begun.

“I’m going to fall asleep, now,” Ganon murmurs into his hair.

Link finds the space under Ganon’s chin the perfect place to sleep, like he’d always meant to sleep here.

“If you awake me with or before the dawn, you will regret.”

Link nods in his little nook under Ganon’s jaw.

“Goodnight.”

The hand curled up behind Link’s back shifts up, up, and up until Ganon’s fingers tangle in his hair. Link only remembers now that he’d attended to Ganon’s hair but not his own. He won’t dare get up from bed and fuss with it, now. He won’t ruin this perfect moment.

Lips press little kisses to his hair, and Ganon murmurs, “Goodnight, Link.”

He falls asleep to the familiar back and forth of Ganon’s stomach. It’s the first night he’s ever felt Ganon breathe against him like this. It's much better facing Ganon like this. He's safer this way, more secure under Ganon’s chin and beside his heart. Link kisses the skin and hair over said heart and snuggles tightly to Ganon’s chest. The night promises to be chilly, but Link will not feel the cold lying next to Ganon. The duvet remains messy around them, unnecessary.


	9. The Plan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another filler chapter. But they needed to work some stuff out after last chapter lol. If you're nervous and feel like the other shoe is about to drop ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) wait for it

Link considers the horse, bottom lip in his teeth. The mare, Annie, is already saddled and ready to go for their journey. Light provisions are tucked away in the bags at her sides. Still… Link bets he's more nervous than her. They could barely afford the rent on the cuccos, the land, or the house back home. A horse had been out of the question. Of course he's seen them, pet them and fed them when he used to hide after a harsh scolding. But…

“What?” Ganon barks at him, dressed smartly for their excursion. Sidon will not be joining them, claiming a headache. “Never rode before?”

Still a safe distance away from the stables, Link shakes his head.

Ganon already has one foot in the stirrups. He blinks at Link for a second—probably correcting that assumption and maybe a few others—and then looks to the stable boy holding the reigns.

Nodding to the mare beside them, he asks the stable boy, “Can she handle two riders?”

The stable boy glances between Ganon and Link before shrugging.

“I don’t see why not, mister. So long as you ain’t planning on racin’ her or nothin’.”

“She’s not a race horse,” Ganon says with a glare. “No one should race her ever.

Feeling and watching Ganon’s temper flare in real time, Link steps forward and rests a hand on Ganon’s arm. He speaks before the stable boy cobbles together some smart reply.

“Annie is perfect,” he says with a smile. “We’ll have her back before supper.”

Ganon mumbles something under his breath while lifting his foot out of the stirrup. Ignoring the presence of the stable boy—and perhaps Sidon watching them from a window—Ganon cradles one of Link’s hips in his hand. He scoots the page closer to the horse and nods down to the stirrup. Link lifts his right foot first, but Ganon’s sigh in his ear tells him he’s done wrong. Oh… Climbing up with his right foot while the horse stands to his right wouldn’t work… Ganon sighs even harder as Link hesitates and just lifts him up with both hands. Link bites back a squeak only because of the stable boy watching them with interest. Ganon huffs when Link’s right foot drags over the saddle, catching in the straps and buckles. Link jumps in his hands, then, and cooperates rather than hindering all this. The saddle might just be long enough for both of them. With Link settled and secure, Ganon follows him up. They sit for a moment as Ganon gauges Annie’s response. She huffs much like Ganon had, but otherwise makes no fuss.

“We’re off then,” are Ganon’s only words of departure.

Annie’s hooves kick up dust in the stable boy’s face as Ganon urges her away from the manor. Link had told him yesterday about trails leading up the mountain behind the estate. The trail sneaks behind a waterfall at one point, and Link sticks his hand out to swat at the water. Ganon sits behind him, snug in the saddle with Link practically in his lap, and smirks at Link’s antics. The sun doesn’t yet beam down on these bare cliffs, so the climb up is pleasant. Still, it’s early enough for fog and a chill to linger. When Link shivers despite his overcoat, Ganon wraps an arm around him and pulls them flush together.

Link’s hum vibrates under Ganon’s hand, and Link makes sure to rub his shoulders against Ganon as thanks. To recline against Ganon like this relieves some pressure off his lower back and hips. He's unused to the stiffness of the saddle and the bouncing around. The trip up the mountain to the plateau at its peak will hopefully be over sooner rather than later. Link looks forward to sitting still for a few hours, but also the food packed away for them.

He'd begged Ganon to spend today with him outside the manor. Late last night, Sidon had received word that Hestia and her party will return in two days. Ganon’s departure had been scheduled for a day after Hestia’s expected return. However, Sidon has asked he leave the morning Hestia arrives. Link isn't sure if they've even come to an agreement for the contracts. Sidon had been firmer than he usually is about Ganon leaving. By this time tomorrow, Ganon will be gone. Link suspects with a heavy heart that he will never see the man again.

Link has not been alone with Sidon since the incident, but Sidon regards Link coolly when circumstances bring them together. Link fears for what the near future holds. Sidon will probably forbid Link from seeing Ganon if the Gerudo is ever invited back to the manor. The only reason he'd allowed it this time was because he wanted to charm Ganon and sway him into an unbalanced contract. Now with that backfiring  _ and _ Ganon having stolen Link’s affection and heart… Link shivers against Ganon’s chest and clutches tighter to his arm. Never seeing Ganon again is one thing, but to know the wrath that will come down on him for all this…

Link keeps his woes to himself. There's nothing to be done about them, and he doesn't want to tarnish this last moment between him and Ganon. They will have tonight together, and then nothing more. Since their night in the bath and their confessions, they've not discussed… well, anything. Link has not brought up leaving with Ganon or his feelings for the man. They've just continued on like they hadn't exchanged such profound words. Ganon still holds him at night, and Link still tends to him during the day. But the kisses and the frantic energy that had possessed them for a brief moment elude Link.

Link shifts in the saddle, in Ganon’s arms, and suspects the Gerudo does regret his actions that night. His attraction to Link must disgust him on some level. He'd already told Link rather sternly what he thinks of grown men having affection for young boys. Link huffs under Ganon’s arm and chastises his own thinking. He is not such a young boy anymore, not the tender age of fourteen when his plight had begun. Back home, at this age he would be well within the right to buy land, to marry, things like that. Link scoffs at the idea that he is still a child. He recalls now Ganon teasing him about having body hair. That just adds more fuel to his stubborn pout. He needs to convince Ganon that there is no shame in a relationship between them. That Ganon’s feelings are untainted by foulness.

“We’re almost to the top, I think,” Ganon says behind him, disrupting Link’s planning. “Do you know where to head once we reach the top of the trail?”

Link nods.

“If I remember correctly, there is a huge boulder and some trees somewhere on the plateau. We should settle down there. Are you hungry yet?”

“I could eat,” Ganon says with a shrug. “There's no rush.”

“I reckon not…”

“Have at it, if the desire strikes you. Don't wait because of me.”

When Link says nothing to that, lips buttoned tightly, Ganon squeezes his hip.

“I mean it. I don't care if you eat and drink without me. I will help myself if I choose to.”

Through tight lips, Link grumbles, “It would please me for us to eat together…”

Ganon pinches his hip at that and says not unkindly, “Hellion.”

Link slaps the back of Ganon’s hand just hard enough to sting. Ganon doesn't pinch him again as punishment, but instead chuckles warmly into his hair. Such actions give the impression of intimacy, and Link takes whatever he can get. He doesn't want to think that Ganon tries to avoid closeness with him ever since their awkward confessions. They still share his bed at night, and Link still tends to him like always. Now, if Ganon had requested he return to his room at night or fight him off when Link turns to him with the comb… That would be different. That would be blatant avoidance.

But they've not kissed since the morning after. Link had woken to Ganon watching him, barely moving except to breathe. They may have rolled away from each other during the night, but Link had woken facing him. Link had craned his head up a little and kissed the corner of Ganon’s mouth. He'd wanted a real kiss, but bailed on the last second when Ganon's expression didn’t change. But besides that chaste kiss, nothing. Link sighs and stares across the plateau as they crest the last bump in the trail. He plans to fix their current situation today. There are no prying, jealous eyes up here. They are safe.

Ganon finds the boulder Link had spoken of without aid from the page. Annie wanders towards it in a lazy sort of way. Both men smile at the sight of grass and water up here. She'll have something to do while they enjoy the early afternoon. Annie comes to a stop in the shade of one of the trees—split along the trunk by an old lightning strike—and Ganon grabs Link by the hips again. It takes nothing from him to lift the squirming boy up and then drop him to the ground.

Link stumbles when his feet hit the dirt, painful vibrations stinging his ankles. But he catches himself on the next stride and shuffles away from the horse. He watches Ganon lift and swing his leg over Annie’s hindquarters and then land on the ground. He stays where he lands to pick at the saddlebags. Link walks around Annie’s head to help and unload the other side. He'd almost walked around behind her, but corrected himself at the last moment. He'd rather not start this beautiful day off with a kick to his arm or side.

“Let’s stay away from the tree,” Ganon grumbles with his arms loaded. A blanket drapes over his shoulder as he carries some of their provisions. “I don't like the looks of that lightning damage.”

Link pauses with both hands resting on Annie’s brown hide. He tosses a glance over his shoulder to the boulder instead.

“Why not there?” He nods towards the giant, grey-blue rock. “Is the tree not taller than the rock, and thus more likely to attract the lightning should it strike?”

Ganon snorts and smirks at that.

“How do you know of such things?”

Link shrugs and makes towards the boulder without further comment. He leaves Ganon to either follow or… not. But the dull thumps of Ganon’s boots in the dirt clue Link in on his decision. While Ganon had wrangled the blanket and basket of food from the saddlebags, Link’s burden required a more delicate hand. He hopes the tea is still hot, that none of it has splashed onto the cinnamon or vanilla sprigs he'd carefully wrapped in a cloth. He'd packed this smaller basket tightly to try and prevent anything from shifting.

Ganon will appreciate the fruit and dried, milder meats Link had packed this morning. But Link suspects the tea will touch the man’s heart. Link’s intentions are not entirely selfless. He means to ply Ganon with the tea in order to coax the man into discussing… well, them. He is due to leave tomorrow. Link refuses to put the matter, the feelings they have, to bed because of that. Ganon had turned away Link’s attempts over these past days, feigning all sorts of headaches and stomachaches, general displeasure. He cannot escape Link, now.

Once Ganon has the blanket settled over dry earth—in the shade of the boulder, too—Link sets up the tea and offers a cup to him. The scent of it as Link had packed the saddlebag must have slipped under Ganon’s notice. His eyebrows flick up on his forehead as the sight of the dainty, plain teapot and cups. Ganon lowers himself slowly to a spot beside Link and leans over their provisions clustered between them. They'll have to remember to give Annie an apple before they set out for the manor again.

Ganon accepts Link’s offering of tea with a murmur of thanks. Link has already doctored the cup for him, and the man reclines against the rock at their backs and sighs. Steam rolls out of his mouth from the hot tea, and Link watches it float away and disappear. The moment of silence bolsters Link’s courage. He sets his cup down and turns to Ganon, waiting for him. When Link catches Ganon’s hooded eyes, he speaks.

“It’s… beautiful up here. Don't you think?”

Ganon’s eyes slip shut again.

“Mmm, I reckon so. I think you can see the cliffs that prelude the valley off in the distance.” He gestures with his teacup off to Link’s right. “That way.”

Link doesn't bother turning his head to try and make the cliffs out. He wouldn't know what to look for in the first place.

“I bet they're beautiful… I’d like to see them, one day.”

Ganon’s sigh fills up his stomach before racing past his lips. He sits still for a moment, holding his breath, before cracking open one eye.

“Would you now?”

Link swallows hard and whispers, “Yes. I'd like that very much.”

That green eye pins him to the boulder’s erosion-smooth surface. Link finds himself holding his breath like Ganon had a second ago and has to try not to gasp when he finally inhales.

“And what,” Ganon asks softly, “would stop your master from following you in a fit of madness?”

“Lady Ruta, I should think,” Link points out with his chin high, refusing to back down. “She would not stand for the high society eye watch Lord Ruta pursue me beyond the manor.”

“You've given this much thought.”

“I have.”

Ganon sniffs hard just before he sits up. He leaves his half-empty cup by an apple that’s rolled onto its side.

“Have you given any thought to me, however? What I might do with you once away from the same high society eye?” He cocks his head, and narrowed eyes nearly burn Link’s pink cheeks. “What sort of wickedness might befall you?”

Link fights the inappropriate shiver that threatens to tear him apart. He knows Ganon means to intimidate him with those words. But… they, unfortunately for Ganon, have the opposite effect. Ganon perhaps means well and only wants what’s best for Link in deterring him from this great adventure. But Link will not be denied, will not ignore the promise of wickedness he would gladly welcome. Blushing madly, Link leaves his cup to the blanket, too, and forces himself to his feet.

Ganon watches him with the same, pinched expression as Link stands, walks around the blanket, and then settles directly on Ganon’s left side. Link offers him a smile to soothe the irritation so obvious on his face. When he reaches up to caress Ganon’s cheek with the curl of his knuckles, Ganon snatches his wrist. The grip of those thick fingers hurts at first, and the pain shocks a hiss out of Link. The moment air sucks past his teeth, though, Ganon lightens his hold. He twists at the hip to face Link a little more. Eyes on each other, Ganon holds Link’s wrist with the delicacy it deserves and delivers the back of the page’s hand to his lips. The kiss surprises another sound from Link—a gasp this time—and Ganon avoids his eye once their skin peels apart.

“I am no good for you, Link. The fondness in my heart has a streak of madness in it, too. Not unlike your master’s.”

Link shakes his head and slips his hand in Ganon’s grip to lace their fingers together.

“You would never hurt me,” he pleads. “Never. Not like that.”

Ganon considers the blanket for a breath or two before finally giving Link his eyes once more.

“No, not like that,” he agrees lowly. His right hand crosses over his body to thumb at Link’s cheek. “But I know myself well. And I know I would consume you until there was nothing left of you. There is madness in that, and I won't force it on you.”

Desperate to stop the turn in their conversation, Link covers Ganon’s hand on his cheek and holds tightly to both.

“But…” He bites his lip for a split second to stop a stutter. “Can you call it madness if I welcome it? You say you will consume me, then fine!” Link tilts forward on his knees to bring them closer together. “That's fine! I-I give myself to you, then. Anything you want, please, just—”

“Are you even listening to yourself?”

The harsh bark of Ganon’s voice cools most of Link’s feverish mania. He freezes sitting up on his knees, still clutching Ganon’s hands.

Lips twisted into something ugly and angry, Ganon bites out, “You know nothing and understand nothing if you think that way.” He yanks both hands out of Link’s grasp and then stabs a finger in his chest. “I did not want to have this conversation with you, because I knew it would go this way! Having you beg like this, it's repulsive. You don't know anything about me, about what I'm capable of. I warned you nearly the first moment we met!”

Ganon shoves himself to his feet at that point and thrusts his hands into his pockets, searching for his cigarettes. Link nearly spills himself into the blanket in his haste to chase after him. Legs slipping and coltish, Link somehow finds the ground and stands.

“Ganon, please, don't—”

Ganon whips around with his case in his hand, momentum smacking the matches out of the other.

“‘I give myself to you, then,’ what a ridiculous thing to say. You're seventeen years old, boy. You're a child! You. Know. Nothing.”

Jaw aching from how hard he grits his teeth, Link winds both hands back and shoves Ganon in the chest. Already off balance from yelling in Link’s face, Ganon trips back a step or two. His case plops to the ground, scattering every cigarette to the dirt. Neither of them pays the case or matches much mind. Link breathes hard as his stomach and heart try to choke him. How dare Ganon say such things to him! He knows well enough his own heart, knows that he doesn't want to spend the rest of his life wondering “what if.” These past four weeks will not be like ships passing in the night for them. He is sure of that, too. Shoving Ganon like that burns his insides like a spear of ice impales him, but he's too wound up for remorse. Ganon stares at him with wide eyes initially before everything on his face narrows with meanness. He barely has his lips parted when Link eviscerates any words waiting there.

“Shut up!”

His voice breaks over the words, but they have their intended impact. Ganon does not speak.

Fists trembling at his sides, Link sputters, “Just… shut up. Don't you dare talk circles around me to-to hide how you feel.” He forces his watery, burning eyes to meet Ganon’s, despite how much that hurts. “I know how I feel. And… and how dare you use my age or-or anything else against me to try and sully that.”

Ganon’s mouth opens again, but Link jumps to close to distance between them.

“I know how I feel!” He yells with a finger stabbed exactly where Ganon had done the same a moment before. “You cannot say otherwise. I won't let you speak for me.”

Link sucks in a harsh breath between his teeth and then turns his jabbing finger on Ganon next.

“My means of telling you how I feel and what I want may repulse you, but I am genuine. I care about you in a way I've never felt before, and you wound me deeply by holding me at arm’s length like this.”

Ganon frowns down at him and snatches his wrist once again. Link slaps his other hand into Ganon’s shoulder—not meaning to hurt, just in an attempt to escape Ganon’s control. An annoyed growl slips from Ganon’s twisted lips, and he captures Link’s right hand, too. Link rears a foot back to kick dirt on Ganon’s boots, but twin, painful squeezes to his wrists stop that.

“If you kick me, Link, so help me, I will send you down this mountain on your ass.”

“I wasn't going to!” He fights the tears and pout trying to ruin him. A fierce wiggle does nothing to weaken Ganon’s grip on him. “Release me at once!”

“I think not,” Ganon murmurs down at him.

He lifts up on Link’s wrists just enough to force the page onto his toes. Then, Ganon struggles with Link wiggling in his hands as he walks them backwards. Link’s feet slip out from under him occasionally, but not once does Ganon drag him along. They start and pause many times as Link struggles, slowing their progress. But eventually the sort of chill only stone can hold blooms along his back, and Ganon cages Link against the boulder by their picnic.

Ganon keeps hold of his thin wrists, pinning them to the smooth rock well above his head. Of course Link still has the option of kicking Ganon to escape. Or biting him. He wants neither of those, just wants Ganon to listen to him and reconsider his apparently firm stance on leaving him here. Link breathes hard with the stone to his back and bites his lower lip. He can't bare to think about tomorrow or the day after that where Ganon will just be a memory. Light pressure on his hair has him opening his eyes. The thick material of Ganon’s black overcoat greets him.

“Hush now,” Ganon’s deep voice whispers to his hair. “Enough of your spitting and struggling. Enough.”

“Then listen to me,” Link pleads. He leans forward in Ganon’s grip to press his face to the man’s chest. Link turns his head to the side to beg, “Please. I know once you leave, I'll never see you again. I can't do that, can't stay here while thinking about you and your life, your house in the desert all alone.” He swallows hard to clear the spit collecting in is mouth. “You say you have fondness for me, then why won't you listen to me? Why do you turn a dismissive ear on my cries?”

The moment Ganon’s grip on his wrist slackens, Link yanks them away. They don't go far, only snake around Ganon’s chest to hold on for dear life. Ganon shuffles forward and squashes Link to the rock with his weight. Link’s muffled whine is out of desperation rather than pain. His fingers catch and claw in the back of Ganon’s coat as he hangs on, determined to change the tide of this verbal war. Ganon sighs above him, and Link shivers from the pressure of Ganon resting his lips and chin in his hair.

“Have you not considered what sort of position that would put me in? Stealing you from Sidon would not come without cost. To you or myself. He may end our business relationship over such a slight.” A shiver runs through Link when Ganon kisses his forehead. “He will surely make a mess for you, should you ever return to this part of Hyrule. No one around here would hire you for anything.”

Link’s heart sinks at such a stony, political response.

“I suppose I… am not worth such a cost.”

Ganon sighs heavily above him. He then shifts from pinning Link against the rock and slowly lowers himself to a knee in front of Link. Link clings to Ganon’s shoulders to keep him near, but the gesture is wasted. One of Ganon’s hands holds his hip while the other chases the blush on his cheek. Link leans into the caress and holds his breath, lest his next exhale come out with a whine.

“Don't be a brat,” Ganon says with a little smirk in his voice. “I loathe Sidon far more than this idea of yours. I would just like to maintain such a lucrative relationship. I can buy ore and the like from anyone. It's just easier to buy it from his company.” Ganon leans forward a bit with Link’s chin in his fingers to kiss his forehead. “Your reputation lies heavily in my mind as well. You are worth the cost, if you want me that badly, but you are also young. I don’t want to saddle you with such hardships,” he murmurs against the skin.

Link nods, although not hard enough to hurt or dislodge Ganon.

“He wouldn’t have to know,” Link bargains. He leans away to catch Ganon’s eyes in the shade of the rock. “When you leave tomorrow morning, I… I will not leave by your side. I will wait and join you later, perhaps in Tabahl Village or on the road. If I run away, he has no reason to believe it was because of you. And-and when he asks, you can lie.”

Ganon considers him with a glance that travels up and down his face a few times. A little smirk tugs at one corner of his lips when Link squirms under his stare.

“Planned that all out already, hmm?” Ganon squeezes a hand between them to thumb at Link’s cheek once again. “Would I have come upon you at some point, watch you run down the road, disturbing the whole forest with your voice?”

Link blushes under Ganon’s thumb and objects with, “I wouldn’t yell… Someone might see us, and the news might end up in Lord Ruta’s ear. I want to leave with you, yes, but not at the risk of your life or wellbeing. My, um… reputation is of little concern. I worry about you.”

“My life?” Ganon huffs at such a claim. “I doubt all that is at stake.”

“You say that there is madness in your heart like Lord Ruta’s. But I disagree…” Link stares at the center of Ganon’s chest, gaze drifting over the blackness of his overcoat and waistcoat beneath that. “I believe Lord Ruta suffers a great deal of anguish and… upset when he must part with a page when said parting is not done on his words. I have never tried to run away from here, because I did not think I would get far.” Link turns his eyes back up to Ganon’s and finds them kind. “I have made a life for myself here, and it is not so bad. But it would be once you leave.”

“He is a jealous and wrathful lord, yes.” Ganon says as much with a smirk, which coaxes a shy smile out of Link. Ganon tips Link’s head up to kiss his cheek next. “You really want this, don’t you?”

Link nods.

“You say I’m young,” he mumbles. “But… I trust you. I’ve trusted you this whole time, enjoyed your company this whole time. I can’t pin down exactly what my feelings mean, but…” His fingers twitch where they still hold on to Ganon’s shoulders. “But I know what I want. And I want to leave the manor and return home with you. To serve you or…” His blush creeps up towards his hairline. “Or… care for you, um… however you’ll have me!”

Link blurts out the last part with his eyes tightly shut. He’d almost said “love you,” and even though he hadn’t, he blushes and squirms like he had. It’s certainly far too early to tell what will become of Link’s feelings for Ganon. He recognizes that much like his desire for adventure as an early teen, he is in the obsessive stage of his feelings. As time passes, Link knows they will remain friends at a minimum. They work together somehow, and after that night they’d fought, Link doubts he couldn’t handle anything Ganon throws at him. And for all Link knows, Ganon’s feelings may change. He may see how ridiculous this is and count their relationship as a one-off. With his firmly stated opinion on the relationship between someone like them, it wouldn’t surprise Link. Still, he must try! Beyond Link’s dark lids, Ganon chuckles at him and kisses his other cheek.

“So, your plan for tomorrow is to stay and watch me leave and then rendezvous with me later at some point. Have you thought about it beyond that?”

Link darts forward to return Ganon’s kiss and adds, “I was going to bring some clothes with me. They’re not technically mine, but… I want to at least make it look like I truly ran away.”

“None of my things will fit you,” Ganon points out with a smug grin. “Well, you could wear some of my linen shirts to bed. If you fancy.”

Link finally loops his arms around Ganon’s neck, feeling the end of their conversation drawing near. If Ganon speaks of plans and teases him about nightshirts… then he must be about to agree and take Link home with him. Link squeezes Ganon around the neck once and then simply leans against him.

“Perhaps, but… I have enjoyed lying next to you in nothing. Maybe you will take liberty of that once we’ve left the manor.”

Ganon’s hum vibrates against Link’s chest, and he holds on a bit tighter to feel more. Ganon takes a step or two back from the rock and then returns Link’s embrace. His hands are warm and flat on Link’s back. It doesn’t take anything but a brief wiggle to get Ganon to pet him through his clothes. He’s craved this closeness since their night in the bath. Ganon holds him while they sleep at night—even tucks Link under his chin as they face each other—but any kisses they’d exchanged were chaste… on the cheek… Link shivers between Ganon’s arms and wiggles to loosen their embrace. Ganon must mistake his wiggling as wanting total freedom, because his arms drop away. Link leans away until their faces are near and they can feel each other’s breath.

“Tonight… Will you…”

One of Ganon’s thick eyebrows flicks up, and he watches Link in silence rather than say anything. His face speaks for him. Chewing on his lip for a second, Link dart forward again to smack a misaligned, sloppy kiss to Ganon’s mouth. It lasts only for a second, but Link presses forward hard enough for his teeth to almost cut into his skin. He spares a thought and wonders if he’d hurt Ganon. But when he pulls back and sneaks a peek at Ganon through his bangs, he finds the Gerudo’s eyes open wide and full of surprise. Perhaps… he should have asked for a kiss instead of taking one… Link worries at his lip again and is about to apologize when Ganon reels him in slowly. Link’s bottom lip slips from his teeth at the last moment, and then fuller lips cradle his in a much softer kiss.

Link’s hands spasm where they grip the shelf of Ganon’s shoulder. He whines a little when Ganon backs off only to change the angle of his head. His nose squishes a bit less against Link’s cheek this way, not that Link minds. He tilts his head accordingly, gives over his bottom lip when Ganon nips it. He licks at the little pain he’d caused before sucking at the tender skin. Link jumps in Ganon’s arms and gives a needy tug on his overcoat. Ganon gives up on that with a hum and goes back to tending to Link’s lips with his tongue. And if he shivers when Link nips at it, purely out of impatience, neither of them mentions it later. Link’s eyes are closed—still closed from the beginning of the kiss—when Ganon lets him go for good. Link’s lips buzzes even after they separate, and he can’t help an appreciative lick over them to chase the sensation away.

Their faces are still near to each other when Ganon asks lowly, “What about tonight?”

Grip on Ganon’s shoulders still tight, Link mumbles, “The night we used the bath, um… when we returned to your room, we… kissed and held each other. Can we do that again? More?”

Ganon does a decent job of hiding the smirk that twitches onto his face. Link barely sees it as the man hums and steps away. He neither denies nor promises Link anything, and that's not the response Link wants. It's better than an outright refusal, but not ideal. Ganon returns to their blanket and provisions without another word or glance Link’s way. The tea has long gone cold, but he wrestles his cup from the blanket and sips it regardless. Link wishes he could enjoy the novelty of cold tea, but it's too bitter for him. Also, he has Ganon’s smug silence to contend with.

Ganon watches him over the rim of his cup as Link comes stomping around. Link pauses at Ganon’s stretched-out legs and stares at him through blond bangs. Ganon’s silence persists, but Link spies the teasing uptick of his lips. He's enjoying this! Face heating up under so much embarrassment, Link throws one foot over Ganon’s thighs, straddling him while standing. He gives Ganon enough time to move the cup out from between them before he sits heavily on the man’s thighs. He can't look at Ganon while he does this, so Link stares at the gold buttons of Ganon’s overcoat while settling in his lap.

Knees bent under him, Link shuffles closer to Ganon until only a narrow sliver of space separates them. Ganon’s stomach and chest send him shifting a bit on his knees when the Gerudo sighs. Ganon returns the teacup to the blanket, settling it a safe distance away from them, and then holds Link about the hips. His grip encourages nothing. Those thick fingers twitch and tighten over Link’s clothes when the page wiggles in his lap. It’s the only sign of discouragement Ganon gives him. He face remains smooth, impassive. Link pouts at him and tries to rub against him once more, but the pressure at his hips turns painful. Link startles in Ganon’s lap, heart leaping for his tonsils, and then holds perfectly still when Ganon does not relax under him.

“Please,” Ganon begins lowly. “Recall what I said in the past about a relationship like this. My repulsion is still very real.” He peels one had up to cradle Link’s cheek in his palm. “I struggle with that every time I look at you. To have you throw yourself at me this way, kiss me and touch me… You are a brave, bright young man. But I cannot dismiss your age, Link. You’re too young for me. For anyone.”

The first emotion that stabs his stomach is anger. Ganon has admitted his feeling! What is all this tripe about? His fingers dig into Ganon’s shoulders just as harshly as Ganon had held him moments ago. Nipping at the heels of Link’s anger, though, is understanding. Ganon is nothing if not a man who holds himself to his standards and ethics no matter the situation. Link respects that in a way he’s never held respect for anyone before. Finally, sorrow bleeds through him until he deflates a bit. He doesn’t mean to make Ganon feel this way. The revulsion or the fondness. Link means what he’d said about keeping his feelings secreted away and silent. If things had gone differently that night, then they wouldn’t be here. Link is plenty happy—elated more like—to straddle Ganon’s lap and lean his cheek into the man’s palm. His happiness wanes at Ganon’s struggle, though.

“I’m sorry,” Link whispers against the delicate skin of Ganon’s wrist. He avoids the Gerudo’s eyes and instead stares at the shoulder of his coat. “I’m sorry I make you feel that way. I don’t mean to.”

“I know you don’t,” Ganon says just as lowly as before. He leans forward to kiss Link’s other cheek, keeping them close even when the kiss ends. “ **You** do not repulse me, Link. I told you just now what I think of you. And I would not entertain your fondness or these moments of intimacy if I didn’t want them. The morality of this rests with me, and it is I who must battle it.”

Link nods and turns his head just so to return Ganon’s kiss.

“Would you um… rather me sit elsewhere? If I’m making you uncomfortable?”

Ganon’s sigh puffs against Link’s cheek. The hand holding his jaw slips around, over his hair, and cups the back of his head. Ganon gently leads Link down until the page’s head rests in the crook of his neck. He holds Link there for a few seconds, trying to drive his point home that he wishes for Link to stay there. Link barely moves to breathe even after Ganon’s hand slides down to hold his upper arm. His stomach rises with a deep breath, and then he relaxes against the rock. Link waits for Ganon’s other arm to sling around his waist before he follows the Gerudo’s lead. They melt into each other and breathe in the clean scents from hair, skin, and clothes. Ganon turns his head just enough to kiss Link’s hair. Link’s heart skips a beat or two at the gesture, and he nuzzles deeper between Ganon’s arms.

“It would please me if you stayed right where you are.”

Happiness sits as a dense weight in his stomach. Link hides the smile that tugs at his lips against Ganon’s neck. The hands holding him squeeze him in an embrace before relaxing again. Ganon must feel his smile, although Link doesn’t intend for that to happen. He hopes Ganon eventually overcomes his inner struggle and can one day feel no shame when looking at him. Or touching him. Or kissing him. Link especially hopes for that last one. Surely Ganon’s hesitation over this will resolve eventually?

And once they’re back in the valley, would Ganon have a reason to feel such shame? No one would know about them. Link has lived under Sidon’s madness for three years in total secrecy. No one outside the manor—well, except for Sidon’s tailor—knows about what transpires between lord and page. Link shuffles in Ganon’s lap and decides it’s no one’s business what happens between them. He wants them to hold each other while they sleep, to kiss every morning and every night. But only if Ganon will give those things freely.

“Ganon?”

“Mmm?”

Link bites the inside of his cheek as he orders his words. He doesn’t want to come across as desperate or as hungry as he truly is. Such ravenous want is a sour taste in Ganon’s mouth, and Link knows it.

“When we return to the valley, um… home…” Such an idea is new and wonderful, and Ganon makes no attempt to correct him. “When we arrive and settle in, um… Can we sleep together? Like we do here?”

Ganon shrugs a little under his head.

“I don’t see why not.”

Encouraged, Link holds tightly to Ganon’s overcoat and presses harder to him.

“And… will you kiss me? Only if you want to, of course. And I… I want to comb your hair, and set out your clothes for the day, and help you wash, and-and help you cook, I—“

Ganon squeezes the nape of his neck and murmurs, “Calm.”

When he’d wound up tighter than a clock spring, he isn’t sure. But at Ganon’s mellow order and firm fingers in his neck, Link goes placid against him once more. The pinch at his neck lightens up the moment he relaxes. Ganon’s fingers rub the sting away before holding the bottom of his skull, under the beginning of his high ponytail. Link knows he could sit up if he wanted, that Ganon doesn’t mean to try and control him. Link finds comfort in the touch.

“You will not be a servant while you live in my house,” Ganon points out. “You do not have to wait on me hand and foot like you do here. You won’t be my page. Just Link.”

“But I want to do those things for you,” Link objects with a little tug to Ganon’s coat. “I just… want to take care of you, is all. If my feelings for you cause you discomfort, then at least allow me to show them in ways like this.”

“I don’t need someone nannying me.”

Link butts his forehead against Ganon’s collarbones. Not enough to hurt, but hard enough to feel. Ganon is just being stubborn for the sake of it. He hears the tease in Ganon’s voice.

“Is it nannying when I just want to take care of you? At least set me to a task so that my mind does not wander, so that I do not annoy you with my boredom. My restless annoys you here, and I know it will be no difference once we’re alone.”

Ganon chuckles under him and teases, “How astute you are. You are given to fidgeting, leg bouncing, and general restlessness when you are bored. You must learn to relax and take pleasure in silence and inactivity. Your inability to relax frustrates me; not your idleness.”

“Well… that may be true, but I still wish to be of use to you. Allow me just a modicum of purpose.”

Ganon hums at Link’s stubborn rebuttal, but makes no comment on it. Link sighs and sets the topic aside for now. They can broach the subject again once they reach Ganon’s home… His home soon, too. Link hides another smile in Ganon’s neck at that thought. He wants to breathe the hot, desert air, taste the water there, and stand on Ganon’s porch to watch the phantom animals stalk the fog. He wants to hold Ganon’s hand or lean on him as they watch. So many wants crowd in the space between his bones and organs that he fears suffocation. But Ganon’s fingers pinch the back of his neck again, and Link sucks in a breath like a drowning man. Like a man reborn with purpose and a vigor for life.


	10. Deepest Sorrow, Hestia Ruta

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) Don't forget to detail all your... ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) feelings about the events in this chapter in the comments below.

Link isn't sure what wakes him the day Ganon is due to leave. It could have been a noise. The light. The shift of the bed or man beside him. He only knows that when he opens his eyes, he does so to find Ganon watching him. Ganon’s right hand—the one he's not lying on—pets his hair.

“Hi,” Link whispers, shoulders hunching to mark his shyness.

The hand in his hair pauses and then slides down the short distance to cup his cheek. Said cheek puffs up when Link smiles and fills the hollow of Ganon’s palm. Link presses his face harder to the rough skin just to feel more.

“Good morning.”

Ganon’s lips barely move as he mumbles that. Link deflates a bit and takes in how yes, it is indeed lighter outside. The sun has not yet risen, simply teases the horizon with its arrival. Link’s heart sinks at the sight of it. He swears he’d only closed his eyes for a few seconds. He’d actually argued with Ganon about sleeping.

“I don’t want to sleep,” he’d said while cuddling closer to Ganon. “I feel as though I’m wasting precious time that could be spent with you.”

“Why do you worry so about time?” Ganon had held him close like he wanted and squeezed him until he whined. “We’ll have all the time in the world after we leave tomorrow. Well, today. It’s already past midnight.”

Link had sighed against him and curled his fingers in Ganon’s nightshirt.

“I know, but… what if something happens? What if we’re discovered or… or Lord Ruta tries to stop me? He may come upon me while I’m packing a few things and think to squeeze in one last moment between us before my Lady returns. She is due sometime around dawn, the same as when you are to leave.”

Ganon’s fingers had sunk into his hair to rub tiny circles into his scalp.

“Put it out of your mind. Nothing is going to happen. Sidon is unaware of our plan, and he won’t find out. If you plague yourself with endless hypotheticals, you will drive yourself to hysterics.” He’d pulled them apart enough to kiss Link’s forehead. “Sleep for now. Everything will work out, you’ll see.”

He’d wanted to huff and whine against Ganon’s words, but what use would it have been? Of course, caught in Ganon’s warm embrace and tucked tightly to his body, Link had wanted other things, too. But the moment he’d taken up squirming and rubbing himself against Ganon’s hip, Ganon pinched his ear.

“Enough,” he’d said, firmer than before. “Either sleep or find something else to do. I won’t entertain any of this right now.”

Tugging on Ganon’s nightshirt, Link had whined, “Please? Just a little? We’re both still awake, and I’ll be quiet, I promise.”

Ganon had returned to massaging Link’s scalp and held him close again.

“Please consider my feelings on this. It has nothing to do with our wakefulness or your promise of silence. I simply don’t want to. Hasn’t your master ever reached for you and you wished you could have told him no? Because you did not desire him at that moment?”

Those words had coaxed plenty of memories to the surface of Link’s mind. He’d especially remembered not too long ago when he and Sidon were supposed to lie down and nap together. He’d had to remind Sidon of that when it felt like his lord’s hands reached for too much. That had happened barely two, three weeks ago. And in the end, Link still had to settle for them having sex, although not like they usually did. Link had deflated entirely at that point and wiggled deeper between Ganon’s arms.

“Forgive me.”

Link had grown still at that point and ended his insistent tugging and begging. Not even Ganon sighing into his hair had stirred him.

“You are forgiven,” Ganon had murmured into his hair. “Perhaps we will in the future, but not this night. Do not allow my rejection to dishearten you, though. The fondness in me wishes to know you, but I am not ready to face such a thing. I will have you then, when I am ready.”

More sunlight filters through the drawn curtains and bestows a pretty glow to Link’s blushing cheeks. He recalls Ganon’s words—murmured deep in his chest, thickened by sleep and the dark of the night—and holds on to the promise in them. His blush cannot escape Ganon’s notice. They do not share breathing room or a pillow, but those emerald eyes have yet to leave his face. Link wonders how long Ganon has lain there, awake and watching. Could he not sleep?

When they’d spoken earlier, Link was sure he would never fall asleep. Clearly, he had at some point. He has no way of knowing right now if Ganon had found sleep, too. Blushing harder still under Ganon’s petting thumb, Link reaches out to mirror him. He still marvels at the texture of Ganon’s skin, how warm he is despite the chill of the bedroom.

“Did you fare well during the night?” Link’s voice rasps, and he wishes for water. “I swear I only closed my eyes for a second or two.”

Ganon’s hum tickles the palm of Link’s hand. He shifts under Link’s gentle caress, ducking their heads closer together. Link holds still with wide eyes as the space between them disappears. His hand falls to Ganon’s shoulder and provides no resistance or coaxing as he shifts forward. Link fights to keep his breaths even as his eyes slip shut and he relaxes his lips. Sure enough, warmer, thicker lips cradle his after a second or two.

How diligently Ganon had resisted him earlier. Link whines a little against his mouth. He’d wanted far more than this when they went to bed, oh but how lovely and right this is. Link makes no move to grab Ganon by the hair or neck to force them harder together. The desire to do such a thing strikes him hard and hot in his gut. He’d never felt such an inclination with Sidon before. Link pushes sour thoughts of his lord away as Ganon pulls back for a breath and then descends on him harder than before.

Link holds on to whatever he can—Ganon’s shoulder and bicep, it turns out—as Ganon rolls them. The bed hugs Link’s back snuggly, and Ganon’s weight pins him from above. Link whimpers into their kisses and tries to accommodate whatever Ganon throws at him. All at once, he feels like a young boy again with his mouth wide open and awkwardly trying to kiss Ganon back. A gentle hand still cups his cheek and holds his head steady as they bob and weave into more kisses.

Link jumps under Ganon’s weight, startling hard when he presses the beginnings of morning wood against the man. He tries to curl up on himself, to save Ganon that sort of neediness and pressure. He’d only ever reacted poorly to it before, not counting their inebriated fumbling. But when Link cants his hips into the bed, Ganon’s weight follows him. Panicking a little, Link rips his mouth away and cranes his head out of Ganon’s reach.

“I-I don’t want to upset you,” he pants to the headboard. “What you’re doing to me feels good, and I don’t want to ruin it.”

“You won’t,” Ganon murmurs against his neck. He shifts down when it’s obvious Link won’t lower his head for more kisses. So instead, Ganon breathes heavily onto his throat between little bites and kisses. “I find my reservations particularly low this morning. But I will stop if I’m hurting you.”

Link shakes his head and dives both hands into Ganon’s hair.

“N-no, don’t stop. You feel so wonderful, please don’t stop.”

Link says no more after that whined bit of permission. The last thing he wants to do is annoy Ganon with his wanton honesty and then end this. Ganon’s breath dries some of the spit on his throat. The Gerudo takes the time to wet the same skin with more kisses and bites just as it dries. Link shyly rocks his hips up, testing some friction between them. Ganon flinches on top of him, and Link stops immediately.

Ganon’s fingers catch in Link’s nightshirt as they claw down his sides. They find his hips through the thin material and hold him to the bed. Grip firm, Ganon repositions himself with his back bent, hips bullying between Link’s thigh. Their chests no longer touch this way, but the hot heat of Ganon’s cock against his thigh erases the mourning in Link’s head.

Pale thighs wrap tightly around Ganon to draw their pelvises firmly together. They groan quietly in the others hair at the warm rush of skin and cotton. With Link’s legs hiked up like this, the hem of his nightshirt rides up, exposing him. Ganon’s nightshirt clings stubbornly to his skin, though, and provides a thin layer of shirt to separate their bodies. The cotton is rough on Link’s velvety skin and burns in much the same way for Ganon. But Link carries on clinging to him and snapping his hips at the same moment Ganon does. If only it were a little lower, a little wetter, a little more everything. Link bares down hard as if that were the case, squeezing his everything around nothing. Oh, the weight of that shaft currently held snuggly where Link’s leg meets his body. Just the imagined weight of it inside him sends Link’s eyes rolling back. And with Ganon’s powerful hips behind it…

Link flinches hard at the phantom nudge of the sweet spot inside him and comes gushing between them. The fantasy had been so real, made more real by Ganon’s weight, scent, and breath on him… Link’s hips jerk with each messy spurt of him. He doesn’t realize until he tastes salt on his tongue that he’d sunk his teeth into Ganon’s shoulder to block his violent moan. Ganon’s skin flames and beats alive in his mouth, and Link bites down harder to feel him shudder.

Ganon rams between his thighs hard enough to pinch a nerve in Link somewhere. It will smart later today, but Link judges the pain worth it when Ganon comes against him, too. His nightshirt catches the mess, but it leaves a damp smear on Link’s skin as it bleed through. Shoulders in his ears and quivering, Link wishes he could taste it, too. And maybe he will one day. He holds on tightly to that mad desire just as tightly as his thighs still cling to Ganon. It takes the Gerudo palming the balls of his knees to get him to come down.

“Goddess,” Link sighs. Ganon is heavy and warm against his side, allowing the cool air of the bedroom to seep into his sweaty skin. Link paws at Ganon’s chest and breathes, “That was… oh, wonderful.”

Blue eyes flutter open, closed since the start of his orgasm, and find Ganon watching him once more. Peace has settled over his thick features. Ganon even offers him the tiny smile he keeps secret from the world.

“Wonderful, hmm?”

Link nods and gives a light tug on the chest hair between his fingers. The shoulders of Ganon’s nightshirt are askew and spread open. Even the buttons have come loose in their frantic movements, and Link takes advantage of that. The novelty of Ganon’s body hair still fascinates him. And judging by Ganon’s widening smile, Link’s fascination amuses him.

“Yes,” he sighs with a stretch and wiggle of his body. “Oh yes, wonderful. I’ve wanted that for so long, Ganon. Thank you.”

Ganon scoops up his hand to kiss first the space between Link’s thumb and index finger. His lips peck little kisses along the back of Link’s palm and then to his knuckles. There, he holds Link’s pale hand to his lips and glances down the length of Link’s arm to meet his eyes.

“I enjoyed myself, despite my usual dislike of the spontaneous. I long for the day where guilt does not taint my every action towards you.” He rests Link’s hand on the bed between them before petting Link’s pink cheek with the curl of his knuckles. “You are too pretty for me to stay away for long.”

Link bites his lower lip through a shudder and once more tugs at Ganon’s nightshirt.

“Come here, please. Indulge me in one or two more kisses while your guilt is held at bay.”

And Ganon comes to him. He blows Link’s expectation out of the water and comes as Link pleads. These kisses are slow, rising and falling in waves. For a moment so that they can catch their breaths, they simply lean their cheeks on one another and hold each other close. Ganon snaps his lips up again soon enough, though. And Link takes every kiss he can with needy lips and a greedy tongue. He will want to kiss and hold Ganon more as the days go on. But he knows a drought in kisses and affection may be the norm for him in Gerudo Valley. So he will savor every kiss and stay buried between Ganon’s arms for as long as possible. Ganon will have to nudge him away or remove himself for Link to stop. And just as Link is about to rub himself against Ganon, skin firmed up by their mouthy kisses, Ganon does as always and backs away.

Link’s head flops back to the pillow with a gasp. Breath eludes him from Ganon’s kisses, yes, but he must also contend with the fact that he’s hard again. Ganon had pointed out yesterday that Link is young, yes, but he’s never rebounded this quickly before. Link turns his head to the side with a blush bright enough to make him dizzy. He slaps a hand against his chest, finds the hem of his nightshirt, and then tugs it down. Ganon chuckles beside him—having rolled off Link once more—and kisses the side of his neck. Link jumps and clamps his thighs together, thinking Ganon had seen his pitiful erection rise again. He bites himself harder and harder until Ganon’s thumb petting at the divot in his chin sends him gasping.

“I-I’m sorry. I’ll stop, I promise, please don’t be upset.”

The bed shifts at his side as Ganon scoots closer. His arm is heavy, especially at the elbow, as he rests it on Link’s chest. Thick fingers remain at his feverish cheek, trying to coax his eyes open.

“Sorry? For what?”

Link squirms on his back. Thighs still tightly together, Link’s legs bend in the air as he tries to curl up on himself. They breathe for a spell, and then Ganon huffs out a quiet laugh.

“Oh, I understand now. Ready for more so quickly?”

“I said I was sorry!”

“You are thinking of me, just like I asked,” Ganon says with a smile pressed to Link’s forehead. He kisses the skin and adds, “Thank you for that. You’ve not upset me at all, Link. Not at all.”

Encouraged by that and Ganon’s smile still caressing his skin, Link loops an arm around him. Ganon starts to roll closer to tighten their embrace. However, his nightshirt chooses that moment to remind both men that parts of it are now soiled. The cool, damp cotton brushes against their hips, and they shudder together. And not in a pleasant way. Link rolls his hips away, and Ganon gets a knee under him in order to keep their bodies apart.

They share a look for a second, each gauging the reaction of the other, before they laugh quietly about it. They settle down, facing each other just as when this had all started. Without attention from Ganon’s lips or the weight of him, Link calms quickly. He still squirms a bit, embarrassment branding him like always, but Ganon’s words reassure him. He hadn’t stepped over Ganon’s boundaries. He hadn’t upset the man.

Ganon’s chest expands just before a sigh. His hand finds a familiar spot on Link, thumbing at the blush on his cheek, and he murmurs, “What a sight you are. I hate to call you pretty, but there’s no other word for it.”

“I think you called me pretty the first day we met,” Link points out. “Did you mean it? Even back then?”

“Perhaps,” Ganon says with a snort and a smirk. “Should I stop?”

Link shakes his head. Any pleasantry Ganon is willing to admit, he'll take. Ganon hums at that, thumbs under Link’s eye one more time, and then peels his hand away. Both sink under him to shove his heavy weight up and off the bed. Link watches him stand from the bed and wander towards the chested drawers with a heavy heart. His worries over Sidon are his own, despite Ganon’s reassurance. He won't feel safe until the manor disappears into the fog behind them.

“I suppose we should get up. You've strewn my personal effects across the room, so help me collect them.”

Before, Ganon’s meanness had sparked either annoyance or agony in him. Now, Link smiles fondly at the man’s broad, naked back while Ganon undresses. Both their nightshirts are soiled, but they belong to the guest room. So it doesn't matter. Link will have to set the room to right and probably aid Lady Ruta’s party arriving before he can meet with Ganon in Tabahl Village below. He should get up as Ganon had said. He waits for Ganon to clean up the mess they'd made on him and step into his last pair of clean trousers before doing so.

Ganon pauses while buttoning them up, back still to Link. He digs a hand into one of the pockets at his hip and draws something out. Link stands on the tips of his toes and even cranes his head around to try and see what has given Ganon such pause. Ganon considers whatever is in his hand before closing his fingers over it. He turns on the ball of a foot, trousers still open to reveal thick body hair, and jerks his head back

“Come here.”

Link almost stumbles onto his face when he skitters from the bed. He saves it and tosses a sheepish smile Ganon’s way. Ganon’s face remains firm, expression smooth. That throws off Link’s light mood, and he bows his head as he stands in front of Ganon. He tries with everything in him not to stare where Ganon’s trousers are still open. Now is not the time for such lewdness, despite how the open maw of the material begs Link’s eyes. Ganon’s curled fist ducking into view distracts him from that. His fingers uncurl slowly to reveal something bound up in a handkerchief. Ganon had found it in his trouser pocket, the one pair of trousers he'd not worn the entire time here. Link suspects they're either old or perhaps too small for him. They certainly hug him in a flattering, revealing sort of—

“Take it,” Ganon grunts when Link stands there in a stupor, staring.

Link does so, but makes no attempt to unwind the handkerchief. Something lies hidden within it, but…

“What is it?”

Link spares a glance up at Ganon through his bangs. He watches Ganon nod his head down towards the handkerchief.

“It's a Gerudo tradition. When we leave home for long, we bring a little trinket with us, to make sure we come back safely. We have to return whatever it is we took. Usually, your family lets you borrow something. Jewelry, a photo, something. You bring it and yourself back to them, safe and sound.”

Link perks up a little and finally flicks the handkerchief loose from its tightly bound bundle. The thin, silver chain of a necklace pools in Link’s palm as he drags the handkerchief away. The links of the chain are tiny, delicate things, barely weighing anything. No, the weight comes from the pendant. It's not terribly big, either, just enough to have felt it within the cloth. To Link, it looks like a sharp tooth sculpted out of pretty, glimmering stone. Opal? Is that it? Link can't be sure, just nudges the tooth around in his palm.

Flecks of pink, green, blue, and so many other colors dance in the rising sunlight. Ganon’s fingers slowly reach for the chain and pluck the whole thing from Link’s palm. The little clasp opens under his thumb nail, and Ganon loops both hands around Link’s shoulders to secure the necklace about his neck. The tooth thumps against his collarbones, and he finds the weight pleasant. Link covers the pendant over his skin and finally gives Ganon his eyes.

“Is it real? It looks like a tooth, but it can't be…”

“It is real.” Ganon turns around to continue dressing. “If you recall, the dried riverbed near my home is a treasure trove of history. That tooth along with others I found are very real. I do not understand the process, but someone from the bazaar outside Gerudo Town told me that the process is called opalization.” He shrugs into a shirt and buttons it with his back still to Link. “Apparently, under certain conditions and over a long, long period of time, opal crystals grow and take the place of things like that buried in the earth. Bones, trees, things like that. Once-living things. Like I said, I don't understand it. But that's what I've been told.”

“It's beautiful,” Link breathes. He waits for Ganon to glance over his shoulder before continuing. “I love it.”

Ganon hums and says, “Good. Then you shall be the one to ensure its safety. Take care of it.”

Link barely gets out, “I will,” before Ganon barks another order at him.

“Bring my suitcases over here and repack my clothes. I need to go speak with the stable boy and make sure he has my horse ready. Fetch breakfast for us as well. Whatever you want.”

Link pays no mind to the sternly handed down orders. If Ganon’s attitude towards him were to change just because of their feelings, well… Link thinks he would feel cheated. Or perhaps the change would make him feel cheap? He's not sure, just glad for Ganon’s normal bluntness and no-nonsense attitude when work is to be done. Link makes quick work of unloading the chested drawers and re-packing Ganon’s suitcases. He'll need the help of one of the other servants to carry them down to the front door. But for now, Link stows them out of the way and sets to his next tasks.

Breakfast is a light affair, mostly because the kitchen is busy with news that Hestia’s entourage is making the ascent up from Tabahl Village. She's here right on time, and Link feels the clock ticking down. Sidon hadn't wanted his wife and business partner—Link wonders who Sidon hates more—in the manor at the same time. He will surely attempt to rush Ganon out with Hestia’s soon arrival. Link marches back up the stairs with breakfasts in hand and finds Ganon has beat him back inside. He smokes near the open window, watching the garden below.

“Your Lady is here,” he mumbles around the filter. “No doubt you will be roped into the fiasco of welcoming her back.”

Link sets breakfast on the little table and then joins Ganon at his side. He tips his head up without any word from Ganon. Cigarette safe between his fingers, Ganon turns a bit at the waist to blink down at Link. Link gives him a hopeful smile, hopeful that everything goes right, that they find each other in Tabahl Village. He hopes for a kiss right now, too, but won't beg.

“I will wait for you at the butcher’s shop,” Ganon says lowly. At some point, he'd done his hair. All the ringlets are swooped up onto the back of his head, exactly like when they'd met so many weeks ago.

“You… you won't leave without me, right?”

Huffing, Ganon’s left hand rises from his side to grasp Link’s round chin.

“No,” he murmurs deeply. “I won't leave you.”

Link slowly rises up on his toes to meet the kiss Ganon obviously means to give him. They almost touch when a fist pounds on the door, rattling it on its hinges.

“Link, Hestia’s party has arrived downstairs,” Sidon’s impatient voice snaps through the door. “Your presence is needed. Now.”

Link sucks in a fast, harsh breath when silence falls over the room. He has to rest a hand on Ganon to keep steady on his feet. He glances first to breakfast and then to Ganon, seeking guidance. Ganon sighs, flicks ash off his cigarette, and then nods to the door.

“Business as usual, Link. Don't give him reason to suspect. Service your masters one last time and then never again.”

Link nods, jumps onto his toes to kiss Ganon’s cheek, and then darts away. The hallway is empty when he spills into it, only the scents of morning and breakfast wait for him. The stairs blur under his feet as he gallops down them and then out the grand, double front doors. Lady Ruta’s carriage has indeed turned up, and he approaches the door to open it for her. He hopes she doesn't mistake the blush on his face and his breathlessness as anything foul. He has barely seen Sidon since the night Sidon stuck him, let alone gotten up to things that repulse her.

Hestia spares him a look that would appear brief and dismissive to anyone else. Link knows to stay still and lift his head a little so that she can see him. She will find no bruises, no finger marks, no lovebites. Usually, she finds at least one, Sidon being unable to resist one-upping his wife. She breathes as she steps past him and onto the waiting arm of her husband. She offers her cheek with a dead, neutral expression for his greeting kiss. Link’s heart goes out to her.

Just as when they'd all ushered her out of the manor, Link is in charge of her delicate luggage. Her jewelry, expensive accessories, and anything personal she'd packed herself. That leaves him with a single suitcase while other servants pull out piece after piece of matching luggage. She'd been away for a month, after all, and a lady needs her fineries. Link enters her room upstairs, one wall shared with the marital suite she has banished herself from. Or perhaps Sidon had been the one to cast her out…

Link cracks a little smile while gently resting his Lady’s fragile possessions on the bed. He supposes he'll never know, now. The moment he has waited for since Ganon agreed to take him away draws nearer with every breath. Link steadies himself at the edge of Hestia’s bed and calms his racing heart. Soon. He will be free soon and will never have to face the madness in his lord’s eyes and hands ever again. Link clings to Ganon’s earlier words of wisdom. Business as usual.

Link seeks his Lady out, needing to make sure she has eaten and then she has no use for him. If she dismisses him, then Sidon cannot yell at him for being lazy. Link finds her in a parlor downstairs, speaking with one of her handmaidens. He stops a short distance away with his head bowed and waits for one of them to address him. He knows better than to interrupt. While he waits, he wonders how happy Hestia will be once news of his escape spreads.

Will she breathe a sigh of relief that another boy has escaped Sidon’s clutches? Sidon cannot blame her for this one, as he no doubt did about Rusty. Link doesn't see how she could feel anything else than relief. Perhaps… envy. While she is not a victim of Sidon’s madness, his desires plague her in other ways. He's sure she had not spent her childhood fantasizing about her future marriage and husband and had her current fate in mind. Sidon in image is probably what she'd wanted. In practice—

“Yes?”

Link snaps his ankles together and lifts his head to ask, “Does my Lady need anything? Breakfast? Tea?”

Hestia shoots a glance at her maid. The girl curtsies before making for the door Link had just walked through. Only the maid nudges it shut and seals them inside. Link swallows hard and tucks his hands behind his back. He's never been alone with Hestia before. And especially not with such thick, tense air between them. It's not anger directed his way, but she does inspect him up and down from her seat. If she's taking this time to try and search him more diligently for marks, she will still not find them. Link swallows hard again and makes sure his posture is straight.

Hand sweeping towards the chair across from her, Hestia says lightly, “Sit for a moment. My girl will return with tea soon enough, and I won't have any need of you then.”

Link only hesitates to sit for a second. One fine, dark eyebrow arches up on Hestia’s forehead, though. That sends him shuffling quickly to the chair and perching on its edge, ready to jump up and flee the moment the door opens. She turns to him, smoothing out wrinkles in the tablecloth. This room faces the gardens, and the morning sun bathes them in sparking rays. The light beams warmth back into Link’s frigid fingers lying on the table. They curl like dried up seedpods, feel just as brittle and dead. Link sniffs hard, adjusts his rear on the edge of the chair, and then meets Hestia’s eyes. She'd been waiting for him, gaze nearly as intimidating as her husband's. But not unkind.

“How have these past weeks fared you?”

She does not ask for the sake of conversation or his actual wellbeing. She wants news on her husband.

Sitting up straighter, Link admits, “Actually, my Lady, they've been… peaceful. I have been tending to our guest while you were away. He is due to leave this very morning. Soon.”

“Dear’s business partner, yes. And you've had no trouble with him?”

Link cannot resist the blush that rises to his face, remembering just this morning the “trouble” they'd gotten into.

“No, my Lady,” Link lies quietly. “He is odd and… well, Lord Ruta warned me of Master Ganon’s blunt and brutish nature. But he has treated me well. Beyond well.”

She nods, but Link cannot tell whether or not it's a pleased nod.

“I see. I was thinking about the last time Dear had guests over while I was away. Master Ganon is not of their caliber, I take it?”

Link remembers well, too, the aristocrat from Hebra who had cornered him in a parlor one night. Link remembers the stink of his breath, his clammy hands, and the way the wall molding had dug into his back while pressed firmly there. Sidon had actually stumbled upon them and has since broken all ties to that particular man. Of course Hestia had heard about it, despite Sidon’s greatest efforts to keep his wife in the dark on all things business and personal. Telling her the truth may have been unavoidable. It's not like she doesn't know what  **Sidon** does with Link, so…

“No,” Link says more firmly this time. “He is not like the other guests. He is… thoughtful. Gracious when he wants to be.”

He has perhaps said too much, but Hestia nods and relaxes a bit in her chair.

“Glad to hear it. I need you for a moment more to discuss another matter I've ruminated on while away. My parents are getting older all the time, and they find certain tasks difficult. They cannot afford much help, and what little they can is already tied up in matters of the house and grounds. They have no one to attend to them.”

Heart thumping wildly in his chest, Link nods when Hestia pauses.

“However, if I were to send someone in our care, then I could spare my parents the expense. They would still be employed by the manor, but would move house to my parents near Hateno. The likelihood of said servant needing to return here is… minimal. Extremely unlikely.”

Link’s heart stops at her insinuations. She doesn't mean to force him, does she? Four weeks ago, he may have thrown himself to her feet and pleaded to go. But now… no, no, he can't. She may try to send him off today, and he can't, he can't leave without Ganon.

“M-my Lady, I…” His voice breaks as he tries to calm his frantic, early heart. “My Lady, your search is a noble and honorable one. But… I feel as though a better candidate lies in someone else.”

He must shove each word out of his mouth. To object or deny his Lady is grounds for punishment. And he does not mean insubordination, no, but she must see that he cannot go. He cannot tell her why, but he also cannot go. Link gathers the bravery Ganon accuses him of having and meets Hestia’s wide, dark eyes.

“Someone else? Are you sure? Lord Ruta cannot interfere or stop this process, if that is what you fear.”

Link bites his lip and gives a little shake of his head.

“I thank you, my Lady, but… I am happy, for once. I would like things to be just as they are.”

Little does she know that “things just as they are” are not as she is used to. No one knows of his plan to run away and follow Ganon into the desert. But so long as he convinces her not to send him away, his little fib doesn’t matter. He offers her a tiny, shy smile to drive his point home. Her pinched brow screams confusion, but she eventually gives a jerky nod after a stretch of silence. She bows her head after that, and the tips of her gloved fingers pick at each other.

“I wish to… make amends for all that has happened to you. All the evil that has befallen you because of me.”

Link’s shoulders straighten and lean back some as he stares at her, surprised. Her voice had been that of a dove, terribly low and soft.

“My Lady?”

She sighs and forces herself to meet his eyes.

“If only I had known… The memories are but a fog now, but the day we happened upon you in the street, I confess that I mistook you for a girl. And with that in mind and what age I thought you were, my heart went out to you on that crisp morning.” She grits her teeth as her eyes shut, mourning her actions that had lead them to this. “If I had said nothing, not drawn my Dear’s attention to you… he would have never discovered you, Link. And for that, you have my deepest sorrow.”

This is all news to him. His memories lie murky in the depths of his mind despite his youth. He does… vaguely recall she'd been the one to approach him, although on Sidon’s arm. Sidon had given him the rupees, but… she'd protested, yes? She'd wanted to give them to him. Link now understands why, why she would have wanted to help a young lady living on the streets. His heart breaks a bit inside him, and Link makes to stretch out a hand across the table to hold hers.

Hestia flinches away from him, though, and reaches into her pocket to retrieve a handkerchief. She blots the linen at the corners of her eyes and then holds the cloth to her lips. The moment to comfort his stoic Lady has passed. She would probably enjoy the comfort of her maids anyway. Link’s hand drops back to his lap, and he flattens his back into the chair once more.

“I am… happy for the time that I've been given,” Link confesses, wishing to spare her this guilt. “My time here has taught me much, given me many opportunities. I do not regret my Lady’s generosity on that day or any day.” He bows head and then meets her shining eyes when he rises. “Thank you for everything, my Lady, but I still wish to remain in your and Lord Ruta’s service. If you will have me.”

Hestia calms herself with one more breath. In the blink of an eye, she resets the neutral, chilly mask she wears about the manor. Sidon has forced such a countenance on her. Link wonders what she would look like, happily married to the man of her dreams, tussling the hair of children she will never have. He will abandon her and Sidon today, but his heart will always go out to her.

“As you wish, then.” She flicks a hand towards the door. “I need nothing further from you. You may go.”

Link stands with a bow already forcing his head down. He holds it for a second before pushing his chair in and almost sprinting from the room. Manners keep him calm until he’s in the hallway and around the corner. Had Hestia truly believed him? Link wants to believe that. Not that it matters, but he hopes she doesn’t think less of him for wanting to stay. Her opinion of Sidon’s weakness is well known within the manor, and he wouldn’t want her thinking he agrees with Sidon. Link shakes his head, hair smacking about, to loosen the thought from his head. None of that matters! He will be free soon, and anyone’s opinion of him will be left in the dust.

Link climbs the stairs without paying much attention to the action himself. His head is too full of wonderful things, mostly spending time with Ganon and finally seeing the world. The air in his room is cold and stale from lack of use. Link leaves the door open behind him and stands in front of the window. The carriage that had carried Hestia here has long gone, only now a stable boy loiters with Ganon’s horse. A donkey lingers near the huge steed, already loaded with Ganon’s personal items. Link reaches up with his left hand to cover the pendant hidden beneath his shirt. His nails almost cut into his skin when a voice clears behind him.

Sidon leans against the open doorway, arms crossed and face smooth.


	11. Redemption

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Done. Please feel free to give my old Legend of Zelda fics many, many re-reads. I probably won't write another fic until the next game comes out. In the meantime, please enjoy my slew of Yu Yu Hakusho stories already out the ones yet to publish!

A lack of expression on his lord’s face is never a good sign, and Link turns his back fully to the window. He is lucky Sidon had thought to grace him with a warning rather than waltz right up to his back, unannounced.

“I did not find you with my darling wife, so I assume she is settled and in no need of you?”

Link’s nod is jerky, frantic.

“Yes, my Lord, of course I sought to tend to her. She sent me away, claiming her handmaiden could take care of her.”

Sidon nods his head and then nudges himself off the doorjamb. A flick of his foot sweeps the door shut. His palm flat on the wood makes sure it stays shut. There is no lock on the inside for this room. It’s mean to be a closet, and thus only locks on the outside. The door opens the wrong way for a closet, opening in instead of out. Link’s little window is too small for anyone to climb out of, owning even more to his room being a closet. Still, Link backs up as Sidon approaches, wedging himself between the iron footboard of his bed and the dresser.

His window to the outside, to the future, sheds the only light available in the room. Sidon closing in on him, watching him down his thin nose, is like a pair of shutters slowly snuffing out that light. The windowsill bumps the top of Link’s rear end, and he stumbles. Sidon’s hands reach for the sill on either side of Link’s hips. Sidon cages him in, and the glass of the window is cool against the back of Link’s skull.

Left hand peeling away from the sill, Sidon cups Link’s jaw and asks softly, “Why are you looking at me like that?”

Link forces a smile—although a teacup would have more strength than this smile—and parrots back, “Like what?”

Golden eyes search his face for a moment before Sidon murmurs, “Like you would rather be anywhere else but here.”

Their argument and Sidon’s subsequent attack on him hangs in the air between them. It’s not much air with their heads tucked close like this, but the situation hangs nonetheless. Link swallows hard with Sidon’s fingers cupping the hollow triangle of his jaw. That grip could bruise if Sidon wants. The glass behind him is firm and insistent even when Link presses back to it. Sidon just follows him close, draws the side of his fine nose along the side of Link’s face. His exhale plays with the lock of hair in front of Link’s ear.

Link shivers and carefully slides his hands up Sidon’s chest to hold his shoulders. Tenderness like this usually soothes any lurking madness in Sidon, and history proves itself right now. Tension snaps out of Sidon’s back like an overly stressed spring. He sags a little against Link, hand at Link’s jaw slipping into his hair. The other snatches Link’s hip and keeps him still. Link shivers again at the firm press of something familiar and frightening to his thigh.

“What will it take,” Sidon rasps into his hair, voice on the edge of a sob. “What will it take from me to show my remorse for hurting you?”

His hands shake Link a little with every other word punched out of his mouth. Link whines against his chest and gives a feeble wiggle.

“S-Sidon, please, you’re pulling my hair.”

Link almost slips to the floor when Sidon’s grip actually does lighten. Link will have a bruise at his hip from Sidon’s  _ other _ hand, but at least his hair is spared. For now.

“My sweet boy, please, please forgive me,” he moans in Link’s ear. “You have been like the distant, unreachable sight of land to a shipwrecked sailor as of late. I know I hurt you, with hand and word alike, but please my boy, you must know I didn’t mean it.” He clutches Link to him, head thrown back like he sends a plea to the goddesses. “How I love you so, Link.”

With the confession still hot on his lips, Sidon yanks Link’s head back and smothers him with a kiss. Link’s feet kick below them, slipping and scratching on the floor. His little hands are almost useless as they shove and slap at Sidon’s chest. Struggling is perhaps not the smartest thing for him to do, not while perched on the edge of escape. But it’s a knee-jerk reaction to Sidon, now, and he cannot resist. He will not—cannot—rear a knee back to injure Sidon, but he will also not suffer these kisses without a fight.

Sidon bites at him and attempts to coax him into returning the kisses, but Link refuses. He manages to pry his mouth away for a split second and then locks his teeth together. When Sidon rocks forward to try once more, he finds no way to plunder Link again. His mournful expression falls away when he pulls back. Frustration twists his lips and pinches his fine eyebrows as he stares down at Link.

“Open your mouth.”

Link sniffs hard to clear the moisture from his eyes and nose. He shakes his head rather than risk Sidon take advantage of his mouth opening for words.

Sidon’s fingers in his hair tighten one more and shake him a little.

“My boy, you do not have to continue this-this… obstinate attitude of yours.” He lets loose a few, breathless laughs before squeezing Link’s thigh caught between his. “Our guest is departing, for good I promise. Come now, there’s no need to be shy or hide yourself.”

Link’s shoulders cave in, trying to protect his neck, as he pleads, “You’re hurting me right now, my Lord. I’ve been avoiding you, because you hurt me. I have never confessed to enjoy pain, and that is all you have given me as of late.”

It must take a great deal of strength for Sidon to loosen his fist and not roll his eyes. Link feels the echoes of the aborted motion regardless.

“I confess, I was not on my best behavior that night. But don’t you see? It was that frustrating brute Ganon who drove me to such hysterics. You know I would go mad if anyone else had you, Link, and what was I supposed to think with you trailing him like a lovesick puppy?”

Link grits his teeth and nearly shouts, “I was following your instructions! You handed me to him, told me to do whatever necessary to insure his happiness! Not once did I f-fall to my knees, like you insinuated. Never! He would not ask that of me, because he is a gentleman. He would not lie with me.”

“He had better not,” Sidon grinds out.

Link’s mouth opens in outrage, quick to spew more words in defense of Ganon’s honor. However, the hands in his hair and at his hip have other ideas. Sidon shoves and knocks him around on his feet until he’s spun around. The windowsill now digs into his belly, and Sidon forces their heads forward to stare down at the grounds below. Like this, Link must stand on the tips of his toes to keep purchase on the floor.

Sidon is a hot, firm line of muscle all along his thighs, rear, and back. Link tries to keep still, worried that a swift crack of his head against the window will be his reward for struggling. He would rather not rub himself against the familiar hardness at his rear, lest such a motion be misconstrued. Sidon breathes into his ear, smelling the clean scent of him on every inhale. His hum is displeased, and he leans his head away to escape the rising musk in Link’s hair.

“Disgusting,” he spits. “You smell like that degenerate.”

The sight of Ganon’s horse and donkey—cute, little thing—below is what keeps him quiet. Sidon’s words mean nothing. Soon, Link will follow the tracks of the beasts and join Ganon in the village. And then in the desert. Maybe forever.

“Well,” Sidon sighs, “it’s nothing a bath can’t fix. I can perhaps steal one last night with you,  even though Hestia is here and Ganon has ruined everything.”

Their breaths fog up the glass a little when he adds, “Ah, there’s the brute now. No doubt barking like a mad dog for everyone to bend to his will.”

Link’s next breath stalls in his chest and threatens to choke him. Sure enough, Ganon strides into the dirt of the circle drive, face pinched in annoyance. The chain of a pocket watch gleams in the morning light, and Ganon reaches for it to check for the time. Link’s eyes widen a fraction more as Ganon’s expression softens. He looks around the yard and back towards the house, clearly looking for something. He must expect Link to at least come outside and see him off. Sensing a chance to escape Sidon’s clutches, Link shoves back against his weight a bit.

“M-my Lord, please, I must see our guest off. He may think us rude if I do not.”

“Absolutely not,” Sidon bites out against his neck, teeth almost nipping him. His hands pick and shove at the buttons on Link’s trousers before Link can slam his thighs shut. “Hestia will no doubt be looking for us soon. And she will not soon leave the manor again for such a great length of time. Enjoy this sweet moment between us, my dear boy. I will try to go easy on you.”

Link yelps when his trousers pool down by his ankles, small clothes dragged down too.

“My Lord, please, not here, I have to—”

“Hush now,” breathes against his neck, this time followed by kisses and gentle nips. “I have no oil within reach, so keep still for a moment.”

He grunts while shoving Link to the glass, bending him at the waist. Link’s cheek flattens on the window, lest he bash his nose into it.

“I shall have to stuff my fingers in your mouth if you carry on like this. Hush and enjoy this.”

Link struggles against the hand on the back of his head. Sidon pays his little flinches no mind while fussing with the front of his own trousers. Velvet flesh hot like a brand slides between his thighs with a sigh from Sidon after a moment. He will lean all his weight on Link and thrust until he’s finished. It’s not the first time Sidon has accosted him under Hestia’s nose, and Link recognizes the motion all too well.

Only this time… the thought of submitting terrifies him, and he fights despite Sidon’s warning. Fingers with short, clean nails soon slap over his mouth to keep him quiet when he begs Sidon to stop. Link stares at Ganon’s small form below, hands on his hips and concerned glance aimed at the manor’s front door. Ganon will not leave Tabahl Village without him, but, but…

Sidon lets out an angry bellow when Link’s teeth sink into his fingers. It’s not enough to break the skin or even leave a mark, but the shock of it startles him. Sidon jumping behind Link sends his forehead cracking into the window, just like he hadn’t wanted. Link slaps both hands to the glass to force the world still. His stomach tries to drop to his feet, but he fights the vertigo. Sidon is warm and heavy against his back soon enough, just mindful of his fingers them time. The flat of his palm muffles Link’s voice this time, giving him nothing to bite. Link’s blurry eyes once again find Ganon. Dizziness and tears blur the image this time. Link barely hears or feels Sidon at his neck, moaning softly between harsh kisses.

Everything stops, like a phonograph run out of wind, when Sidon’s lips trip across the silver chain at Link’s neck. His lips linger there for a split second while the rest of him considers what he’s just stumbled upon. The shock of stillness rocks Link back into his body and out of his stupor.

“What is that?”

Sidon leaves the hand in Link’s hair and peels the one holding his hip away. His fingers are stiff, nails cruel as he yanks the chain out from under Link’s shirt. His snuffling, biting, and kissing had disturbed it.

“What is this?” He hisses in Link’s ear, pulling hard enough on the chain to choke Link.

“N-nothing,” Link rasps. He throws a hand to the front of his throat and begs, “My Lord please, I can’t—”

“Don’t you dare lie.”

Sidon pulls harder still, sure to leave a mark behind with the fine, silver links. Sidon’s eyes catch Ganon loitering below, clearly not interested in mounting his horse and making haste for home. He clutches the chain in his fist for a few moments longer, long enough to hear Link gag and scramble on his toes for leverage. He releases the necklace and shoves Link to the window by his hair in quick succession. When he drapes himself along Link’s back this time, he does so with a snarl on his lips and in his voice.

“A gift from our honorable guest, no doubt,” he snaps. “Would he leave such a thing behind, I wonder. He’s certainly in no hurry to leave.”

Link’s voice comes through with each inhale. His heart freezes in his chest, but the rest of him continues living.

“What exactly could he be waiting for, my boy, hmm? Come, come, do tell.” Sidon’s fingers in his hair tighten, and a few strands pop free. “Is he waiting for you, Link? To rob me not only of fair contract I’m cursed with for the next ten years but also to steal you away? I’m right, aren’t I?”

He doesn’t wait for Link to confirm or deny—not that he would believe a denial. Link’s knees give out the moment Sidon releases him. He slides down the wall and sits in the pile of his trousers still pooled at his ankles. Wide, terrified eyes stare up at Sidon. He knows! Ganon had promised, had been so sure Sidon would not catch wind of this. At the first tiny shake of Link’s head, Sidon takes a stomping step forward, threatening him.

Link cannot help the flinch that runs through him. He ends up with his chest curled to his thighs, arms thrown over his head. He now knows fear like the snarl of a rabid dog. Sidon has done that to him. Sidon’s polished shoes lie barely an inch from the delicate bones of his shins. Bent like this, Link barely has room to breathe. What air he does suck down rushes over his voice in frantic gasps. He would cry if he could believe what’s happening right now.

“I think not,” Sidon says lowly, almost in a whisper. “I will not allow it, Link. He cannot have you, do you understand?”

When Link continues to cover his head, Sidon stomps his foot.

“Do you understand?”

Teeth grinding against each other, Link wraps a hand around his trousers. He springs up, tugging his clothes into their rightful place, and shoves a hand in Sidon’s chest.

“You can’t keep me here!” He shouts. “Y-you have no right! I’ll run away, I-I’ll tell my Lady what you’ve done. You can’t keep me here.”

The twisted, ugly snarl that had possessed Sidon’s face moments before he struck Link last time springs to his lips, now. Link almost expects the flat palm that races up to his face and strikes him across the mouth. Still, the shock of it burns across his skin, and the power behind it sends him flailing into the dresser. Link’s hip knocks painfully into the wood. His hands make a mad scramble to keep himself on his feet. They slap uselessly at the dresser on his way down.

He slumps right back to the floor where Sidon had spilled him moments before. Only now, his trousers are drawn up to his thighs this time. Link coughs hard and licks his bottom lip, tasting blood. Mouth hanging open like a door off its hinges, he stares up at Sidon with angry tears in his eyes. His Lord scowls down at him, clenching the hand he’d smacked Link with. They stare at each other until Sidon’s fury cools and slides off his face. His hand even relaxes at his side. The room and hall beyond are deathly still.

“He cannot have you,” Sidon repeats softly.

His left hand trembles a little, probably stings from smacking Link, as it dips into the pocket of his waistcoat. He plucks out a dainty, silver key and curls every finger around it. He holds it there to make sure Link sees it, understands what that key means.

“No,” Link breathes. “No, I won’t!”

“I shall send our guest off, I think.” Sidon spins around on the heel of a shoe and takes the stride or two towards the door.

Link tries to pull himself up with both hands flat on the side of the dresser, but he doesn’t get far. Sidon stands just outside the door, handle already clutched in his left hand.

“I shall return around supper to judge your behavior and whether you deserve a meal and that bath you desperately need. Behave.”

Link stumbles to his feet, screams, “No!” And then slams face first into the door. Without a mechanism on Link’s side, Sidon locks the door and leaves.

The door rattles on its hinge as Link pounds the sides of his fists into it, shrieking and screaming against the wood. The sounds all bounce off the door and build in the room like gas from a furnace, waiting for a spark. Teeth gnashing, he tugs his trousers up his hips before ramming his shoulder into the door. It groans at the force of each blow—multiple blows—but holds fast. Next he kicks at the handle, tugs on it with his hands, even pulls down with all his weight hanging on it. Feet flat on the wall and door, Link tugs with everything in him. Nothing budges. His sweaty palms lose grip of the handle, and he rolls ass over head until his back hits the metal of his bed frame. The blow knocks the wind out of him. He lies still for a minute or two, just staring at the ceiling and breathing. Link’s heart beats hard in his bruised, battered lips. They still taste of blood, and each inhale has the tang of copper on it.

Eyes pinching shut and chin quivering, Link bites back his cries. He slips down, down until he can curl up on the floor. The door will not give. And even if someone heard him, Sidon has the key. No one will go against him and open the door with a spare. Link sucks in a terrible, wet breath. His teeth catch and devour every sob that tries to squirm out of his mouth.

Link only unclenches his teeth to pant in between bouts of sobs. They wind up in his stomach and then make a dash for his throat to spill into the world. He holds them and holds them until they overflow. And still he does not cry. True, tears streak hot and shameful down his cheeks, but he refuses to cry out. The iron of his bed is cold in his fists when he drags himself to his feet. The buttons on his trousers are still a mess, small clothes twisted and bunched up under them. He straightens all that with shaking, blurry hands before shuffling to the window. He wipes at the oily smudge his forehead had left behind in the struggle.

Below, two red blurs speak to each other. Link flattens his hands to the pane and blinks tears out of his eyes. Sidon smiles and gestures towards the road, trying to shove Ganon off like a boat infested with plague. Ganon just sneers at him, fires something back, and crosses his arms over his chest. He stubbornly holds his ground and glares at Sidon when the lord insists harder. But Link knows. Eventually, Ganon’s ears will attempt to turn inside out at the drawl of Sidon’s voice, and Ganon will give up. Link’s heart breaks a little as he catches the subtle lift of Ganon’s head, trying to keep an eye on the door and on the lookout for Link.

They’d agreed to meet at the butcher’s shop, but… Link should at least see him off. Ganon must know something is up. If he should turn his eyes to the windows above and catch Link holding back screams in his little room, Link knows his wails would wake the heavens. But Ganon does not look up. He scoffs once more at Sidon, mounts his horse, and then trots out the manor’s gates. They barely open to let him pass, slam shut the moment his donkey clears them.

“No, no, please,” Link bites out. He presses his hands harder to the glass, smudging it with sweat. “Please, I’m still here. Ganon…”

Link sucks down stuttered gulps of air and reaches for the pendant at his neck. He has to protect it, to safeguard it back to Ganon’s home. Their home. Link grits his teeth harder than before and shoves his forehead into the glass. It does nothing for the headache thundering behind his eyes, but it’s better than feeling nothing at all. The window is three stories up. It’s smaller than a normal one, perhaps too small for him to fit through. And only hard, unforgiving earth lies below.

He could jump. He could jump and try to land in the bushes under the window. But… the decorative, iron fence wrapped around the ground floor… What if he should fall on it? Link peels his sore, tired eyes open to judge the distance. He will surely break something catching himself on the ground. And with his legs or ankles in pieces, he will be bedridden for weeks… months… He will never catch up to Ganon like that.

But he must try.

With his bed sheet tied to the footboard of the bed, he throws the rest out. He has both legs up on the sill when the door handle jiggles. Link scrambles off the sill and tries to yank the sheet back inside. If it’s Sidon and he sees the escape attempt… what would he do to make sure Link could not try again? Link’s mind fills with the rattle of chains and the bite of iron at his wrists and ankles. The madness in Sidon may drive him to the unthinkable. No one could stop the lord. Ganon would be beyond him, further than broken ankles could ever put him.

The sheet slips in Link’s fingers as the lock clicks in the handle. He cannot drag it all back in time. So, he slaps at the window and slams it shut on the trailing remains of the sheet. It dangles outside the window, but hopefully the wind won’t catch it at give it away. Link stands in front of the window to block it, wipes at his face to clean up a bit. Sidon won’t have his tears this time, he won’t, he won’t!

“What’s going on in here?”

Hestia stands there, head held high and eyes narrow. A handmaiden lingers in the hallway behind her, peeking around her shoulder to see.

Link’s mouth flaps uselessly as he stares at his Lady.

“I asked you a question, Link. What. Is going on here? The whole house is disturbed by your screaming and banging around.”

Voice wrecked, Link tries to speak. But true, he’s spent the past half an hour screaming and crying. Tears well up in his eyes again, and he thinks about throwing himself to his knees, begging her for release. Before he can, she nudges the door shut behind her with a foot. The motion reminds him of Sidon. She steps forward in her pretty dress, a warm brown to compliment her olive skin. She has changed clothes since arriving, and Link does not recognize this dress. Perhaps Sidon  **had** purchased a gift for her.

That thought floats from his head when Hestia waves him out of the way with a frown. He does so, but hovers near her elbow, standing in front of the dresser. She instantly catches sight of the sheet tied to his bed and the rest flapping in the wind outside. The end of the sheet does not even reach the top of the ground floor window. Her bottomless eyes narrow at the scene before focusing on the gate outside. Link doesn’t dare speak, still doesn’t think he can. His voice is torn.

“You were… going to jump, weren’t you?”

Link nods at first and then shakes his head, hearing the accusation in her voice.

“N-not like that, my Lady. I… I was…”

She hums and turns her head to stares at him.

“Our guest has left. He said something about wanting to thank you for your service and time as Dear was biding him away.” Her head tilts a bit. “But you never emerged from the house. Have you been locked in here the whole time?”

Shame threatens to drown him, but a few tears slip down his sore face.

“Yes, my Lady,” he whispers on the edge of a sob. “Yes, I was. I… I meant to leave with Ganon. To never return.”

“Never you say?”

Link’s eyes flutter shut and mourn what could have been. He will never find Ganon, now.

“Never, my Lady.”

His eyes are closed when Hestia snatches his wrist. Her shoes click on the floor as she marches from the room, dragging him behind. They turn right outside his door, but do not head down the grand staircase. Instead, she stomps down the hall and opens a thin, tall door. Behind it, a set of servant’s stairs spiral down, down, down. Hestia squeezes them into the cavern with Link behind and her handmaiden bringing up the rear. She does so with a candle held aloft for them, although it cannot pierce the ravenous darkness below once the door slips shut behind them.

Hestia’s footing is sure despite the narrow, cramped stairs. They are perhaps a part of the original mansion constructed years and years ago. She leads Link down and says nothing to his harsh breathing or sniffles. The go on like that forever until she slaps at another door, invisible to Link, and light spills on them. They exit in a parlor that faces the garden. Even before they approach the double, white doors that lead out, Link sees his favorite tree and the tulips he’d planted for her.

They break out into the garden like they’ve risen up from the ground and finally breathed after so long. Hestia yanks him around by that same wrist and shoves him towards the garden. Link stumbles, nearly twists his ankle, but catches himself. His eyes hurt from crying, from the dust of the cramped stairs, and finally from the sunlight. Noon is upon them, soon. But he stares owlishly at Hestia and the little smile on her face. She points behind him, gesturing to the deeper parts of the garden. He knows that way back there, that a fence blocks off the property from the wild. But beyond that, the trees and bushes and thistle grow thickly. Does… does she mean to send him into the wild?

“Get out of my house,” she says softly. “Get off my land.”

Link blinks at the handmaiden behind Hestia, who shakes her head a little. She has no idea what this is about, either. And such words aren’t usually said with… the happy smile on Hestia’s face. What does she mean?

“W-what? My Lady—”

“Leave,” she orders a bit more forcefully. “Never return. Just as you said.”

Link’s shoulders drop as understanding dawns on him. He stares at Hestia with his mouth open in wonder.

Tears shining in her eyes, Hestia nods her head and says, “Go.”

The loose cobbles of the garden are unkind to Link. He spins around with his heart in his throat and crashes to his knees at first. But like a foal fresh to the world, his legs scramble under him and force him back up. Link slaps at the ground and takes off, leaving the ladies behind him. His feet pound on the stones as he races for the gate at the back of the property. If it is locked somehow, he will vault over the fence. He would risk little injury at that height. Link nearly winds himself slamming into the gate, nearly wrenches his fingers while prying the latch open. It clangs horribly once the gate bounces shut behind him. He pays it no mind and tears through the woods, intent on finding the road down to the village. Arms pumping at his sides, Link gallops through the brush and fights a smile.

He’d won. In the end, aided by Hestia of all people, he’d won. How she’d come about a key, he doesn’t know. Doesn’t care. All that matters is that he is on this side of the property and not that side. He fears the road once he finds it, worried that somehow Sidon will catch up and drag him back kicking and screaming. But the hills leading down are too rough, too steep for him to keep to the woods.

Link keeps an ear out for hooves or a carriage behind him as he flies down the mountain. His legs, lower back, his everything burns as he runs. The floor and Sidon’s hands hadn’t treated him well while knocking him around. But none of that matters. What matters now is that he reaches Tabahl Village as fast as possible. He has run this road before, up and down because of Sidon. This will be the last time.

Link’s shoes dig into the dirt road once he reaches the village. He has to stop himself slowly or risk pitching forward onto his face. That already hurts quite enough for one day. The butcher’s shop is still farther ahead on the left. It’s the last shop along Main Street, just before the little village gives to the wild of the woods again. Link smacks dust off his clothes, swipes anything out of his hair. A few villagers turn suspicious glances his way. They know he’s Sidon’s page, but never see him without Sidon. Word will probably reach the manor that they’d seen Link, if Sidon doesn’t find his room open and empty first. A spike of fear at that image makes him pick up the pace, makes him quit turning a polite smile to everyone. The butcher’s shop is there, right there, just a little more…

The door swings open, blocking Link’s view of the front window. Ganon steps out, hat replaced on his head the moment he ducks out of the shop.

Link’s heart stops at the sight of him. He’s real. He’s still here. He’d… waited. Ganon is too busy considering his purchase to notice Link. In his arm, he cradles something wrapped in wax paper. It must be something cured or dried. Raw meat will not make the trip back to Gerudo Valley. Ganon’s face is smooth, although even at this distance Link sees the way his lips turn down. Emerald eyes blink at the package in his arm. Ganon considers it for a moment, sighs at something, and then turns those down, saddened eyes up the mountain. They find Link after a second, must dart back to him like they’d skipped over him at first. And even then, it takes a few more seconds still for Ganon’s expression to blow open at the realization.

Link doesn’t wait for Ganon to say anything. His dusty shoes slip on the road as he takes off again, spitting up pebbles behind him. Ganon has the full length of Link’s charge to dump his package off to the side and open his arms. Link leaps for him, and their chests bang together. The force of their collision knocks Ganon’s hat off his head, and it goes bouncing down the road. Neither notices, too caught up in each other.

Link loops his arms and legs around Ganon and holds on, intent on never letting go. Ganon continues Link’s momentum and spins them around for a step or two. He breathes hard by the time he stops twirling around in the dirt. His horse and the donkey eye them warily, more so when Link cries into Ganon’s neck and has to smother his awful sounds. Ganon’s huge hands cradle the heaving, jumping space between Link’s shoulder blades and the back of his head. He holds Link like he’s something precious, like he’s something special.

“You waited,” Link gasps. “You waited for me, I—”

“Shhh, now, you’re okay. You’re okay.”

Link shakes his head and tries to say, “He caught me, I-I couldn’t get out, I was trapped.”

“You’re safe, now, Link, you’re safe.” Ganon nuzzles his cheek, and moisture on both their faces mixes together. “I have you.”

“Don’t let me go,” Link pleads.

His fingers probably leave marks on Ganon’s skin beneath his clothes, but he can’t get close enough like this. So instead, Link clutches Ganon to him and begs him not to let go.

“I won’t, little one, I won’t,” Ganon says thickly. His lips are at Link’s ear as he lowers them to their knees. “I won’t. I have you, Link. Breathe and calm down. Calm yourself.”

Link opens his eyes for the first time since launching himself at Ganon. The sky is blue and endless above him. It will probably rain in a few hours, rain like it always does except in winter. A breeze blows through the village, following the Zora River down from its source. The river snakes back behind and around the manor. Sidon must be there somewhere, confident that he’s won or frothing at the mouth because he knows. He will discover Link’s escape at some point.

And they may look up and see the same blue sky. But Link will never see it from here again. He twists his shaking fingers in the short hairs at the nape of Ganon’s neck. He will see the sun rise and set with the rolling gold of the desert around him, feel the warmth soak and drain in that sand. He will welcome the rain, then, and maybe drag Ganon into it so that they can dance under the drops. And then marvel as the blue sky unfurls once more from behind black clouds, like the storm had never happened.

Ganon peels them apart, but keeps his rough palm on the back of Link’s head. Their foreheads touch, and Link darts forward a little to kiss the corner of Ganon’s mouth. It’s all he takes for now. His heart still races like he had through the woods, but he remembers Ganon’s request. He wants whatever Ganon will give him. That’s all he wants. Link pries his heavy, sore eyes open to find emeralds already watching him.

Ganon tips his head down and to the side, just enough to offer Link a real kiss. Link takes it, perhaps shoves their mouths together too hard. Ganon holds him there, keeps him still as they feel and breathe on each other. Ganon must taste the blood on his lip, the blood that had surely stained Link’s teeth. He licks the copper away and shoots Link a thoughtful frown when they pull apart. It’s only now, up close like this, that he takes in the bruise on Link’s jaw and how red his eyes are. He hears how hoarse Link’s breaths are, how his bangs stick to his skin with sweat.

Petting hair out of Link’s watery eyes, Ganon asks, “I’m ready to start the long trek home, Link. Are you?”

Link has to swallow hard a few times, but he eventually manages a tiny, “Yes. Please.”

He says so with a smile. It trembles at the edges, but it’s true. Ganon sees it for what it is, presses a light kiss to those trembling lips, and then pulls them back to their feet. He guides Link to his horse, let’s the shaking page pet her for a moment. She regards him warily at first, having seen him run like a crazy, wild animal. But soon enough she snuffs at his hair and deems him safe enough. Ganon lifts Link up and situates him in the saddle. That done, Ganon swipe his hat and package from the ground. The package he slips into a bag on the donkey. His hat finds its proper place on his head after he smack the dirt off.

Before he climbs up, he offers Link the canteen from one of the saddlebags. A sniff tells Link it’s just water, and he drinks as much as he wants. He hands it back to Ganon with a shy smile, tucking some loose hair behind his ear. Ganon hums and smirks at the gesture, trying to keep Link’s bruised face and busted lip out of his mind. They have a long and winding road ahead of them, though, so he hoists himself into the saddle and situates himself behind Link.

Link grabs for one of Ganon’s arms and loops it around his waist almost immediately. He needs this right now. Privately, he bets he will fall asleep against Ganon’s chest before they even reach the soggy wetlands below. Running all this way and crying so hard back at the manor… Link startles a little, recalling that hard run, and smacks his chest. Ganon’s pendant remains safe around his neck. It hadn’t fallen off him during his sprint down the mountain. He will return it home, just as he’d promised.

Link sags in Ganon’s arms and closes his eyes in the noon sun. Ganon grumbles something about finding Link a hat at some point, but they set out for now. They need to put distance between them and Tabahl Village. Link has not left this Main Street since he was fourteen, hungry for everything and anything. And now, all that and more lies before him. Ganon gently nudges his mare to trot as Link relaxes more and more in front of him. They go bouncing in the saddle as Ganon’s mount builds more speed. The mare’s hooves kick up a trail of dust behind them, and they disappear below a hill in the path.


End file.
